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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29856528">Protecting Humans for the Irritated</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/SirenNightshade/pseuds/SirenNightshade'>SirenNightshade</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Guild Codex: Demonized - Annette Marie</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Demon/Human Relationships, Demons, F/M, Interspecies</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 00:13:49</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>98,252</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29856528</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/SirenNightshade/pseuds/SirenNightshade</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Zylas et Vh'alyir is an enigma, forever ticking by his own clock, following his own set of rules. Human society is confusing and difficult, and it grows more complicated with time. How can he possibly protect a human female who's so determined to put herself in danger? Well, it's not like he doesn't enjoy a challenge... </p><p>The Guild Codex: Demonized, retold from Zylas' perspective.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Robin Page/Zylas et Vh'alyir</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>74</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>59</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Book 1, Chapter 1-7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I only partially understand the demon language so there won't be very much of it. </p><p>A lot of the dialogue is retold word-for-word, some scenes are skipped, others are new.</p>
    </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Taming Demons for Beginners - start.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Another dawn approaches. Can feel it. Leave the <em> Ahlēvīsh, </em> step towards the horizon. Crouch low, watch, glance, listen; no sound. Safe. </p><p>Dawn breaks. <em> Vayanin. </em>Heat touches me, warms, fills me. Strength, relief, promise. All and more. The day begins again. </p><p>Then cold. Wrong. Life-giving sun glowing on my skin, but cold everywhere, within, without. Confusion. A <em> vīsh? </em> Whose? Which house?! </p><p>Spring back, snarling in warning, eyes darting. Where is the threat? Then darkness, a pull, body twisting and turning liquid -- no, not liquid. Light. Like the <em> Ahlēvīsh, </em> but different. Resist, push, fight -- it ends. Success? </p><p>No. A new place. </p><p>Drop, crouch, silence. Smell, listen. Nothing? No beings, but this place -- square, all around, walls and ceiling and floor flat and angular. Confusion. What is this? Warm sand now cold, smooth, flat -- wrong. </p><p>Move sideways, eyes darting, seeking. Then solid meets my foot. Look. More confusion. A circle of glowing silver rings and runes, like <em> vīsh </em> but also not. Unfamiliar runes. </p><p>Reach for them, carefully -- can’t touch. Air stops the reach. Solid. </p><p>Panic. </p><p>The ring, it is solid. Touch the air, feel the walls. Spin, seeking, feeling; the solid is a dome all around me. Trapping me. <em> Prisoner. </em> No, worse -- <em> summoned. </em> </p><p>
  <em> Eshanā seminedh. Nā -- seminedh? Vh’alyir?  </em>
</p><p>Impossible! </p><p>Snarling, whirling, enraged. Impossible! The panic worsens. Attack the dome, use magic, fight, refuse, deny -- <em> impossible! </em> </p><p>Power draining. Can feel it. My <em> vīsh </em> weakens. Stop. Think. Cannot weaken myself so much. Need my strength. </p><p>Noise. My gaze lifts, draws to a tall rectangle in the wall. A door? Tense, preparing, ready to fight -- then, thinking different, I pause. <em> Vīsh </em>comes to mind. Runes streak up my arms. Summon the darkness, hide within. Maybe they will not know? </p><p>Dome clouds in shadows. Good enough. They will notice, but they will not <em> see. </em> </p><p>Others enter. Hear the door move, see two bodies, radiating warmth, watch them approach, speaking. Language I do not know. Could never have known. Quiet, make no sound, wait. </p><p>Excitement in the voices. <em> “This is it?”  </em></p><p>
  <em> “Must be. It worked.”  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Finally! Okay -- ready the spell?”  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Yes -- calm yourself. I will cast it.”  </em>
</p><p><em> “How can I be calm? We </em> did <em> it! We summoned a </em>Vh’alyir!” </p><p>
  <em> “Please, shout louder -- we want everyone to know!”  </em>
</p><p>One figure flinches. I barely notice. I hear my house name in the unknown tongue and rage boils higher. <em> Vh’alyir </em> are <em> never </em> summoned! </p><p>These must be <em> hh’ainun </em> -- how did they do this? How did they manage to bring me here? Disbelief, rage, panic -- I wasn’t done yet! I have so many more heads to take, so much more vengeance to lay upon the <em> Dīnen, </em> so much more to do! I am <em> Dīnen et Vh’alyir </em> --</p><p>-- no longer. </p><p>I am... <em> Ivaknen.  </em></p><p>My lips pull back, a low growl ripping from me. I try to stifle it. Must be <em> ahktallis; </em> stop, wait, learn. Watch. They do not know. They have not seen me, have not confirmed I am present. If they step into the circle, if I can draw them in, they will be dead. I can do this. </p><p>Patience. </p><p>Words are spoken. Different words. I recognize the cadence, the sound, as different from before; the <em> hh’ainun </em> know more than one language? Curious, confused, intrigued -- even in the midst of rage. </p><p>A figure gestures wide. A sound, like a piercing shriek but without the harshness. Then cold, again, settling over me, winding through me. I snarl, unable to help it, berate myself. The cold settles in my mind, and when the <em> hh’ainun </em> speak next, I <em> understand. </em> </p><p>“Can you understand us now, Vh’alyir?” </p><p>I tense, muscles going rigid. What have they done? Shared their language? I did not want to know this! </p><p>A pause. Silence. Waiting. I say nothing. </p><p>“We know you’re there,” the other says. “Speak up, now. We only want to make a deal with you.” </p><p><em> I do not make deals with corpses, </em> I think fiercely. That’s all these <em> hh’ainun </em> were: corpses unaware of their future. I will tear into their bodies, rip them apart, make them scream and howl with agony. </p><p>They will learn their mistake. </p><p>And then they will die. </p><p> </p><p>-- </p><p> </p><p>So many sounds, so many scents. I start to understand. This is a home; many <em> hh’ainun </em> live here. Sometimes I can hear them moving, speaking. Four are here most times, sometimes more. Can hear voices from the circle but not words; they are too far away. Too far to learn more, to understand how to get free. </p><p>This room is a knowledge room. I understand this now. Sometimes a <em> hh’ainun </em> will come, pull a knowledge tome from the wall, and look at its insides. Reading. They never stay for long -- except the two who return every few hot-cold cycles. Those ones talk much, speaking to me, cajoling. They want me to enter a contract. </p><p>Multiple times, they explained the full contract. They rattle off endless words, then ask if I agree. I do not reply. They leave. The cycle repeats. </p><p>Then something new, for once. A new <em> hh’ainun. </em> This one had not been here before; the scent is new. The scent came from behind the door, cracked open just enough that I could see the heat from beyond. </p><p>Yearning. Want that heat, need it, <em> demand </em> it. But the <em> hh’ainun </em> would never give it to me. </p><p>The two <em> males </em> left, and conversation paused, then started again. A new voice speaks, but quietly, hesitantly. The scent of fear reaches me. Sounds like a female, easily startled by the males around her. </p><p>Confusion. Why would a <em> female </em> ever fear a <em> male? </em> </p><p>Perhaps <em> hh’ainun </em> were different? </p><p>Two enter the room again, but a different two. One is much smaller than the others before. The size of a <em> payashē, </em> but the scent is <em> hh’ainun. </em> Weak. They speak. The male is scaring her on purpose, I realize. She is quiet and keeps her head down, her words curt. She does not want to be here. </p><p>The male drags her closer to the circle as he warns her about what I’ll do to her if she crosses the line. She recoils violently, that fear wafting all the stronger. My lips quirk, amusement reaching me for the first time. The male <em> hh’ainun </em> do not fear me, but this female does. </p><p><em> Finally. </em> A smart one. She knows danger when she sees it. </p><p>The males are not nearly so wise. </p><p>He leaves. She is confused, then follows him. I chuckle. At least I was able to see something amusing in this bleakness. </p><p> </p><p>-- </p><p> </p><p>She returns. </p><p>A scent comes with her and I perk up despite myself. It is...it is…</p><p>No words describe it. The scent is alluring beyond anything I’d smelled before. I watch her, her shape, the heat of her in the cold room, but I can’t see the source of the smell. Is it her? Her scent? Did female <em> hh’ainun </em> change scents with time? </p><p>Something clatters as she puts it down and she moves but the scent does not. Something else, then. She wanders the two walls close to the door but my gaze does not follow her. I do not care. I want that smell, whatever it is -- food, I could only guess. She returns to that spot every so often and I hear her take something, hear her bite and chew. My mouth waters. </p><p>I want it. </p><p>She stops then, and her scent of fear returns. Returns -- because it had left, if only briefly. These tomes, they calmed her enough that she stopped fearing me. </p><p>Until now. </p><p>She gazes at the circle, then beyond my spot to the tomes on the other side, head turning. Hesitation and fear and yearning are in her movements, her scent. I glance behind me, curious; what was different about <em> those </em> tomes? </p><p>Ah, I realize. Those ones are closer to my prison than the others. She does not want to get too close. </p><p><em> Ahktallis. </em> She knows better than to approach the hunter. </p><p>...Or not. She passes by me, drawn by a desire stronger than her fear. I can’t decide if she’s being brave or foolish, but either way I am impressed. She is refusing to allow her fear of me to stop her from getting what she wants. </p><p>She picks up a few, holding them, then selects another from a lower shelf. She flips through it, focused, and her scent changes just a bit. I do not know what it is, exactly, but a certainty had overtaken her. She had found something. </p><p>She returns to where I knew a long seat stood and she curls up on it, becoming a small, warm sphere in my sight. </p><p>Hunger churns in me. So much heat, just there, and that sweet scent, too. It tempted. She may as well have been a beacon of survival to me, a promise of another <em> vayanin </em> if only I could tear free of this prison. </p><p>She pauses, attention on my dome, then shifts. I hear her as she takes another of her food and a thought reaches me: which male had gifted this to her? Had she accepted? Had she killed him? Did <em> hh’ainun </em> even practice these traditions? Likely not; she would not be so afraid if males deferred to females in this world. </p><p>Time slips past. My focus remains on her, on her heat, on the dish I can hear but not see. Then, abruptly, she ceases her reading, closing the tome and lifting her head. She regarded my prison quietly, her scent shifting to fear once more. Had she forgotten about me? </p><p>Offended, I battled the impulse to startle her just to make a point. How would she react if I struck the dome, sending ripples through it? My lips twitched in amusement at the idea. </p><p>She placed her chosen tomes under the small table before her, then rose. At first she forgot her food and I wondered if she planned to torture me with their smell while refusing to give them to me, and then she turned and came back for them. Ah, she’d just forgotten, then. </p><p>Then -- a gift. </p><p>She jostles the dish. There are a series of <em> ticks </em> on the floor, then the sound of something rolling in my direction. Eager, I crouch down, following the sound. It comes towards me and my heart thuds, daring to hope…</p><p>It passes the line. I snatch it. I already had it to my lips before I manage to think better of it. I had no idea what this was, if it was dangerous, if it was trickery. I hesitated, yearning, lamenting, wanting. I watch the <em> payilas. </em> She does not move, holding still, even her breath coming in short, shallow bursts. </p><p>She was terrified. </p><p>...She would not be feeling terror if this were a trick. </p><p>Decided, I jammed the disc past my lips. I shiver. The flavor coats my tongue and I can’t resist licking it before swallowing it down. What was this?! I rise to my feet, slowly and silently, watching the female. If I asked for more, would she give me more? I wanted more. Whatever that food was, it was unlike anything I’d ever tasted. </p><p>It was more tempting than her heat, blazing just there beyond my reach. </p><p>Finally, her form relaxed and she squatted down, and I watch her cautiously retrieve all of the fallen delicacies. She replaces them with soft scrapes onto whatever dish they’d sat upon before, then rights herself, her leg sweeping. I’m unsure what she’s doing, but her fear had ceased, something like satisfaction taking its place. </p><p>Then, I see her distinctly retrieve another disc. Her arm moves in a throw. Eyes widening, I shift, listening for the sound of it in the air and following the arc of her motion. My hands open and the food falls between them. </p><p>I stare at her for a moment, dumbfounded. Did she know I needed this, that I wanted it? Or was she simply testing me? Did she want something in return? My pride wouldn’t allow me to accept such gifts without offering something in return -- but did <em> she </em> need to know that? </p><p>I swallow it before I can convince myself to throw it back. </p><p>She throws another. </p><p>Unable to believe it, I quickly catch it and swallow it. It isn’t much, but I can feel a thread of strength returning. </p><p>Then her arms move in tandem and I hear multiple of them tossed my way. I duck my head against them, feeling crumbs landing in my hair and bouncing off my form. </p><p>My good will vanishes. I pick up one, take aim, and throw it back. It smacks her in the face and she cries out, recoiling. She runs from the room -- then stops and rushes back, grabbing the disc I’d thrown back to her, and regret reaches me. </p><p>I shouldn’t have thrown it. That was one fewer of the discs for me. </p><p>She leaves and I crouch down, selecting each fragment off the floor and devouring them. When I’m certain I’m alone, I allow the magic to fade so I can get a better look at the last disc. </p><p><em> Ih? </em> </p><p>I don’t know what it is I’m perceiving. It looks like nothing that could come from animal, tree or ground. I might have believed it had grown on some form of <em> hh’ainun </em> plant, but there was nothing like a stem anywhere on it. How had the female gotten it? Had she made it? How? Fascinated, I turned the food over in my hands, examining it from all sides. </p><p>...Why had she given me these? The thought plagues me as I sit, crossing my legs, and stare at the disc. What was her goal? She had to have a goal; everyone did. Only the <em> zh’ūltis </em> ones did anything without a plan in mind. Perhaps she was, then. Perhaps she hadn’t thought of what she was doing before she did it. </p><p>I gazed towards the door, silently willing her to return. Her heat wasn’t much, but it had helped slow my loss of strength. Besides, she was at least entertaining. Her movements, her focus, her odd food; she was a little mystery. A puzzle. </p><p>I’d always liked puzzles. </p><p> </p><p>--</p><p> </p><p>She returns again. </p><p>Several cycles had gone by. The strength her foods had given me had long since waned and I had accepted my fate. This is where I would die -- because I would never agree to the <em> hh’ainun </em> who tried so hard to tempt me into a contract. Accepting my coming death made things easier, allowing me calm and humor as their panic increased. </p><p>They would never have me. </p><p>I would laugh at them as I died. </p><p>I watched as the female hovered at the door, hesitant. I wondered if she expected me to throw another of the discs. I had none left, though I had briefly considered keeping one -- to throw at one of the males. But its promise of vigor outweighed the meager damage it could do to a <em> hh’ainun. </em> </p><p>She had brought more, I knew. I could smell them, could guess from her raised hand which one held the delicacies. She shuffled around the edges of the room, back against the shelves, and my lips quirked. I was caught in this prison; wasn’t she aware of that? She had been told as much, but perhaps she had forgotten? </p><p>I watched her put the dish down -- far, far away from my prison, drawing my gaze to that spot -- and moved around the dome to the place behind again. I had to wonder if she was smarter than she appeared; had she placed the treats there specifically to distract me? If so, it’d worked -- for a moment. But as I couldn’t reach them, I only had one other thing to focus upon. </p><p>I twisted, facing her, then decided to recline on the floor. And she heard me, I saw, her body going rigid. Amused, I shifted again, intentionally making noise, and her scent of fear grew stronger. I grinned. </p><p>I waited until she’d relaxed, debating, and then I spoke to her for the first time. </p><p><em> “Hh’ainun.” </em> </p><p>Her back to me, she gasped, jolting. The tome she held aloft slipped from her grip and smacked her in the face. As she coughed, choking on her own breath, she whirled around to face the dome, visibly shaking. </p><p>As amusing as that was, I had a question in mind. <em> “Hh’ainun. </em> Will you answer a question?” </p><p>The words felt wrong. Strange. This was the <em> hh’ainun </em> language. I had never spoken it before, never formed such words, yet they rolled off my tongue as if I’d always known them. I hadn’t been sure the <em> vīsh </em> that had taught me their language would have allowed me to speak it, but I suppose it must. How could I agree to their contract otherwise? </p><p>I hated it. </p><p>The female’s fear redoubled but she didn’t move, staring, body rigid. After a long moment, she choked out, “Huh?” </p><p><em> Ih? </em> </p><p>I...didn’t know that word. Confused, I tried to make sense of it; had she accepted? Had she refused? What did that word mean? Shaking herself out of her stun, she edged around the circle as if in a daze, sitting upon the long seat. She breathed slow, deliberate breaths. </p><p>We were both confused, it seemed, and after a moment she said quietly, “Why should I answer a question? You threw a cookie at me.” </p><p>A cookie? The only thing I’d thrown had been the food. </p><p>“You threw it at me first,” I pointed out. </p><p>She was quiet for another second, unsure how to respond. Then she said, “What’s your question?” </p><p>I hesitated. Though my mouth opened to speak, I realized then that the words didn’t flow <em> easily. </em> I had to think about some of them. What do I call this prison? Struggling, I said, “What is it you threw into the <em> kaīrtis vīsh </em> before?” And how do I convince her to give me the others? </p><p>“Threw into the...what?” she returned, baffled. </p><p>Fighting for the correct words in her language, I tried, “The…<em> vīsh </em>...the magic.” </p><p>There was a moment of silence. Then, “You mean the summoning circle? You’re asking what I threw at you?” She made a choked sound, like laughter fought back. “Cookies. I threw cookies,” she finally explained. </p><p>So the word <em> cookie </em> had been correct. “This is...food?” I checked. I hoped so. It would be -- odd -- if it turned out that I’d eaten something the <em> hh’ainun </em> did not consider food. </p><p>“Yes,” she answered, sounded confused. Then, “Did you eat them?” </p><p>Her tone wasn’t helping. Was it good or bad that I’d eaten them? She sounded curious but neither angry nor offended, so at least I could assume she won’t tell the others about this. </p><p>She was quiet for a long time. So was I, weighing my options, that scent calling to me, making me wonder how I could get them from her. I didn’t trust that I’d be able to fool her; for all her fear and bravery, I was beginning to think she was also <em> ahktallis. </em> She wouldn’t be here, in a room full of tomes, if she were <em> zh'ūltis. </em> She must be planning something. </p><p>“Um, demon?” she said; my attention lifted from the dish of <em> cookies </em> to her. She was speaking to <em> me, </em> now? </p><p>“Are you listening?” she asked. My lips quirked. What else was there to do except listen? </p><p>“Helloooo? Demon?” she prompted. </p><p>I watched her warm form, amused despite myself. She made silly sounds when she was impatient, it seemed. And I was bored. May as well see what other noises she could make. </p><p>She didn’t press for more, though, and I had to admit a sense of disappointment. If there were only something to do, maybe I wouldn’t be reaching out to a silly <em> hh’ainun payilas </em> for some semblance of entertainment. </p><p>That thought opened the way to resentment. If not for the <em> hh’ainun </em> in this place to begin with, I would not be here, starving to death. I sneered at the female. Maybe she had nothing to do with the <em> kaīrtis vīsh, </em> but her kind had put me here. Amusing or not, I still wanted to see her bleed. </p><p>Her kind deserved it. </p><p>She muttered to herself as she turned her attention to a tome, ignoring me as assuredly as I was ignoring her. Talking to herself? What a ridiculous thing to do; didn’t she have any sense of self-preservation? When a hunter was nearby, you remain silent. Attention is how you die. </p><p>Whatever she found next had her muttering, “That’s a crappy deal. Surrender or die? Lame.” </p><p>My focus snapped back to her. What? Had I heard her correctly? She was disagreeing with the <em> hh’ainun </em>who had brought me here? Intrigued, I watched as she seemed to fight with herself, her head repeatedly turning from her tome towards my prison. After a moment she put the tome back under the table with the others she had stashed there. </p><p>Then, standing, she approached the circle, and I could smell that she was bringing the food with her. I couldn’t help becoming riveted, the hunger in me twisting and burning. What was she doing -- and did I really care? As long as she didn’t try to get me to join any kind of contract, what did I really care what she was doing? </p><p><em> Just give me those. </em> A little bit of pleasure before my demise -- that wasn’t so bad. </p><p>Standing close, she held up one of the discs, a dark spot obscuring her heat. “This,” she said clearly, “is a double-chocolate brownie cookie. It’s delicious, and I’ll give it to you if you answer a question for me.” </p><p>Shock reached me. She <em> was ahktallis! </em> She understood bargains and trades after all! The fragile curiosity I held towards her began to quake, wondering how much of this she’d planned and orchestrated. Was I playing directly into her hands? </p><p>The scent of the cookie reached me again and I wondered if it mattered. My tongue ran across my teeth in anticipation. </p><p>“I answered your question,” she said while I debated. </p><p>I blinked at her, surprised by her sudden forcefulness. Then, with a laugh, I deigned to answer. “A question, <em> hh’ainun? </em> What would you ask?” I replied, mocking. What could possibly burn in that mind of hers? </p><p>She hesitated, then asked, “Do demons lie?” </p><p>A short, amused snort came from me, involuntary. What kind of ridiculous query was that? Didn’t she know anything? She must not be allied with the summoners, I concluded. They would’ve informed her this much, at least. </p><p><em> “Zh'ūltis </em> question,” I dismissed. “Ask another.” Something worthy of that sweet-scented food in her grasp. </p><p>Confused, she checked, “What does <em> zhuh-ool </em>...what does that word mean?” </p><p>“Stupid. Stupid question,” I explained quickly, impatient. Ask me a better question -- I wanted that disc! </p><p>She pondered that, then tried, <em> “If </em> it’s true that demons don’t lie, why is that?” </p><p>Her phrase was almost offensive, doubt in her question. I thought an example would work better than an explanation. “Tell me truths and lies, <em> hh’ainun,” </em> I directed. </p><p>“What?” </p><p>I waited. Though she looked and sounded confused and doubting, she eventually said, “I moved here six days ago. I miss my college classes. My favorite class was biology. I enjoy baking for my family.” </p><p><em> Easy. </em> The ring of truth and foul flavor of lies washed over the words. “Moved here,” I began slowly. “True. Miss your…college,” whatever that was, “true. Biology…lie. Your family.” This one was hard, both tastes present; which was stronger? It took a moment. Then, quite certain, I declared, “Lie.” </p><p>“No,” she denied. “That one is true.” </p><p>“Lie,” I repeated. </p><p>“You’re wrong. I love baking for my family.” </p><p>
  <em> “Zh’ūltis.”  </em>
</p><p>“Did you just call me stupid?” she demanded, aghast. </p><p>I smirked at her though she couldn’t see it. </p><p>“You didn’t answer my question,” she accused. </p><p>Offense flared and I straightened from my relaxed pose. “I did,” I argued, eyes on my prize. Wanting. </p><p>“No, you didn’t.”</p><p>I bared my teeth at her, angry. I’d explained -- she had to hold up her end of the bargain! </p><p>She took a breath, sighed. “Fine,” she allowed, “whatever. If that’s your idea of answering a question, I won’t bother asking any more.” </p><p>Something twisted in me at that declaration. She would just stop, then? Stop talking? But there was nothing else to do! If I didn’t die of starvation soon, I would die of boredom. </p><p>Then, shifting, she knelt down and did...something. It was difficult to tell with only her heat as a guide, but she seemed to put something at the edge of the circle, and I tilted my head, amused. She wasn’t going to throw them at me this time? </p><p>She backed off. </p><p>Unable to see what she’d done, I stretched towards that same spot and felt along the edge. Catching something soft and rough at the same time, thin as cloth, I tugged it towards me. Feeling over the object, I recognized that she hadn’t given me <em> one </em> cookie -- she’d given me all that she’d brought. </p><p>I looked up towards her heat, staring in surprise. She’d offered me one, then given me all. Why? A thrum of appreciation reached me -- then doused. She must want something more. I hardly cared what, really, and decided then to give a small test. </p><p>Pulling the cloth from beneath the cookies, I lifted it up near my face and called a very simple, very small spell. </p><p>It erupted in flame. </p><p>The female staggered back, tripping onto her rear. I sucked in the heat of the flame, the return hardly worth the output. Then, smirking as she walked backwards on her hands and butt, I set in on the cookies. </p><p>She was right. They were delicious. </p><p> </p><p>-- </p><p> </p><p>Again, she returned. </p><p>This time was different. She didn’t hover at the door, didn’t hesitate, didn’t edge around the room. She headed right for the table, retrieving one of the tomes. Standing upright, she checked it, looking for something, and I watched, curious. No sweet scents accompanied her -- or, rather, there was only <em> her </em> sweet scent. </p><p>Like the cookies. </p><p>I wondered if she tasted like them. The other demons said <em> hh’ainun </em> blood was delicious; would her blood be even sweeter than the cookies? My mouth watered with want. </p><p>She wouldn’t miss a few swallows. </p><p>Oblivious to my thoughts, she approached the circle, stopping closer than before. She crouched there, and I could see the darkness of the tome balanced open upon her knees. She was checking for information, then? </p><p>My eyes narrowed in suspicion. She wanted something. </p><p>Aloud, she said, “How long have you been here? In this circle?” </p><p>I blinked, baffled. What did that matter? What’s more, I had no way of knowing. There were cycles to this room, but I didn’t know if it related to the cycles of the world itself. </p><p>“Ask the other <em> hh’ainun,” </em> I told her. </p><p>“I’m asking you,” she returned. </p><p>Thoughtful, I asked, “What did you bring?” A test. I could smell she hadn’t brought anything. </p><p>She hesitated, then answered, “I’ll bring you something tomorrow night.” </p><p>Tomorrow night? I tasted those words, both their truth and their meaning. Tomorrow...the <em> hh’ainun </em> word for day-after-today. Night...the time without sun. Based on this, I guessed that right now was also “night”. </p><p>Then, responding to her offer, I scoffed, “Ch. I see nothing except this room.” My memory could easily piece together the number of cycles, but these <em> hh’ainun </em> words in my mind were confusing. I had to struggle to order them correctly. </p><p>Eventually, I offered, “The room warms and colds. The other <em> hh’ainun </em> come in the warm. You come in the cold. Sixty-one cycles since the first.” </p><p>Distracted, she replied, “Warms and <em> cools.” </em> </p><p>There were differences in those words? This <em> hh’ainun </em> language was senseless. </p><p>Aloud, she said, “Eight weeks and five days. You’ve been here for <em> eight weeks </em> and five days.” </p><p>Why did she sound pained by that? She wasn’t the one caught in the prison. Bewildered, I stared at her heat, trying to understand her mind. She was so odd -- or was she? Perhaps she was a normal <em> hh’ainun </em> and the others were the odd ones. How was I to know? I had only met four of them over the last “eight weeks and five days”. </p><p>Then she perked up, asking sharply, “Do you have a name? Your own name, not a lineage name.” </p><p>“Yes,” I answered automatically, wondering what a <em> lineage </em> was. The languages clashed in my mind; was this to mean “house”, then? </p><p>“What is it?” she asked, curious. </p><p>I couldn’t help a laugh. Why was this interesting to her? Better yet… “What will you give me for my name, <em> payilas?” </em> I cooed, somewhere between intrigued and manipulative. If I could get her to give me more food… </p><p>She shifted her weight. “In exchange for your name, I’ll bake something for you -- <em> specifically </em> for you.” </p><p>Bake? The thing she claimed she enjoyed doing for family, the thing both truth and a lie? </p><p>“Why would I want this?” </p><p>She shifted again, her posture straightening in offense. “That’s my offer,” she declared firmly, “so take it or leave it.” </p><p>Take…? Confused by the phrasing, I watched her move, putting her book back and heading for the door. Unsure how to respond to her phrase, I ran through words in my mind, a subdued desperation demanding I not let her leave without a promise to return. </p><p>What else was there to do but talk to this female and taste her sweet foods? </p><p><em> “Payilas,” </em> I called quietly. She stopped, pivoting to look over her shoulder. </p><p>“Bring your <em> something </em> to me, and I will tell you my name.” </p><p> </p><p>-- </p><p> </p><p>She returned, and I refused to admit I felt relief. I hadn’t truly trusted that she would come back again -- or, if she did, that she would uphold her end of the bargain. </p><p>She did. I could smell it, much different from the cookies yet similar at the same time. I eyed her hovering hand from within the darkness, curious and hungry and wanting. What was it? I tongued my teeth, famished as much from the starvation as the scent of it. </p><p>It took me a moment to recognize that she held more than one thing; both her hands were balanced. Curious and trying very hard not to act ravenous -- which I was -- I watched her set down the cloths holding the treats. From a distance, she nudged one of the two closer with her foot, and my face twisted in a grimace. </p><p>“That’s for answering my question last time,” she said. </p><p>Amused, I edged closer, settling down, but didn’t reach for the cloth yet. I was suspicious about why she’d brought two things -- and her ease. </p><p>She used to flinch at any sound I made. Now she seemed almost eager. </p><p>Still, I couldn’t help feeling a bit relieved. She was proving very honorable. “Keeping your word, <em> payilas,” </em> I murmured, thoughtful. </p><p>She didn’t seem to know what to say to that. Her head dipped as she looked at something -- the other cloth and its food, perhaps -- then back up. Then, a touch of caution to her voice, she said, “I made this for you. In exchange for your name. But...but I want to ask for something else instead.” </p><p>Did she? My narrowed eyes shifted to the podium near her, stillness overtaking me. Had she been convinced by the <em> hh’ainun </em> males to try to get me to accept the contract? I knew what waited on that isolated shelf: a contract and an infernus. My salvation and my damnation. My only means of survival -- at the cost of every shred of my pride. </p><p>Too high a price. </p><p>Then she said, hedging, “I want to...would you...can I see what you look like?” </p><p>“No,” I answered immediately, only to blink in surprise. I’d been so sure she was about to ask about the contract that I’d answered before hearing her question. Well, it didn’t matter; the answer was the same. It was a <em> zh'ūltis </em> thing to ask, anyway. </p><p>“Oh,” she murmured, her form drooping a fraction. “Okay.” </p><p>My brows drew together. Why did she want to see me? And why so much that she radiated disappointment at my refusal? I tilted my head, watching her as the curiosity she was, as she edged the other food into the circle. She looked away, pivoting towards the table and long seats where she read her tomes. </p><p>I hesitated to take the proffered foods, my tongue dragging over a canine. No fear in her scent today, only curiosity. Was that it, then? She was simply as curious about me as I was about her? And, now that I thought about it, it was an opportunity; I had never seen her, either. Only her heat, her outline. I didn’t know what a <em> hh’ainun </em> looked like, only that their form was similar to mine. </p><p><em> “Payilas,” </em> I called, getting her attention. Her head swiveled back to me. “What do you want?” I pressed. At the very least, I couldn’t accept the food without giving something in return. </p><p>My pride was all I had while in this prison. I would maintain it to the end. </p><p>She hesitated, thoughtful, then said, “I want to see your face.” </p><p>Unbidden, a coil of yearning twisted to life inside me. I wanted to see her, too. </p><p><em> “Ch. </em> Stubborn <em> payilas,” </em> I declared, even as I gave in. To be able to at least see my captors...it would be something. I wondered how different we were, demon and <em> hh’ainun, </em> how similar. I dispelled the magic, allowing it to dissipate, and hid my interest behind a relaxed pose and amusement. </p><p>She was in the process of twisting away when she noticed, and then she looked up, eyes widening. </p><p>Her crouch was so small, I noticed first. So non-threatening. Rough, blue cloth wrapped around her legs, a grey article around her chest and over her shoulders. Her arms were bare, confirming that her skin wasn’t either of those colors, but rather a light, pale shade of pink. </p><p>Her hair was short and framed around her face in a dark brown, her eyes shaped differently from my own. Most of her eyes, in fact, were white, only a circle the size of my pupils in the center standing out from the rest in a rich blue -- and they didn’t glow with power despite the fact that she must be healthy. In the center of that blue circle was another in black, and this I recognized as her actual pupils. </p><p>Circular. <em> Hh’ainun </em> pupils were circles. As I watched, they dilated open and closed as she gazed at me, shifting over my form in darts and sweeps entirely too obvious for any effective hunter. I could tell exactly where she was looking. </p><p>In a way, I was stunned. She looked so similar to a <em> payashē, </em> her size and form all but matching. But no horns peeked out of her hair (was she a <em> hh’ainun </em> young, or did they simply not have horns?) and I had yet to see a tail or wings on any of them. </p><p>She gasped at the sight of me and I tilted my head, wondering why she was so surprised. Sure, I looked different from her and she from me, but I could see enough similarities that she couldn’t be <em> that </em> flummoxed. We even had the same number of fingers and toes. The different demon houses looked more different than we did. </p><p>She couldn’t seem to look away, slowly leaning inwards, examining me as if I were the most fascinating thing she’d ever seen. Perhaps I was. </p><p>“Satisfied?” I prompted, a sense of offense rising. I wasn’t here for her amusement. </p><p>Though, I admitted, she was here for mine. </p><p>She proved this by choking out, “I -- I --” and then hurrying out, “Try the cake.” </p><p>Cake? </p><p>I looked down. If the round discs were cookies, then the triangular wedge was cake? Moving slowly, half watching her for trickery now that she could see me, I drew it closer by a corner of the cloth. She continued staring even as I lifted the shape off the cloth, its sweet scent <em> begging </em> to be devoured. </p><p>I met her gaze, her focus irritating. <em> “Payilas mailēshta. </em> Stop staring.” </p><p>Her jaw dropped, giving me a brief glimpse into her mouth; her teeth were mostly blunted, it seemed. “Sorry,” she said. </p><p>She continued staring. </p><p>“Still staring,” I pointed out. </p><p>She looked down. A corner of my mouth quirked at her quick obedience. I wasn’t sure what it was about her staring that irritated me so much, but I took the opportunity given by her dropped gaze to quickly tear apart and swallow the cake. </p><p>It took a surprising amount of self-control to keep from giving a moan of pleasure. It tasted incredible. What were these <em> hh’ainun </em> treats, and how did they create them? Reminded that she’d claimed <em> she </em> made these, I wondered if all humans did. Was she different in that? If she was, then was she better or worse at creating these? </p><p><em> Ka’an. </em> If she was one of the worse humans at baking, I could only imagine how the rest tasted. </p><p>She looked up as I was finishing the last bit. “You ate it already?" she gasped, shocked. </p><p>Did <em> hh’ainun </em> not eat that quickly? Ignoring her, I spotted some remains of the fluffy topping on my thumb and licked it off. </p><p>“Did...did you like it?” she asked. </p><p>This was important to her, I realized. </p><p>I decided not to answer. </p><p>I pulled the cookies over next, unable to resist their call any longer. One by one, I swallowed them down, enjoying their flavor more than the strength they granted. </p><p>Distracted and quiet, she said, “You should chew. It’s...better…” </p><p>I glared at her, continuing my feast. And, I noticed, as I made short work of the cloth’s worth of discs, she examined me again. Her gaze was incredibly telling, lingering over my garments. Given she wasn’t paying attention, I opted to do the same, wondering about her armor. </p><p>She had none, I concluded after a few seconds. Confusion descended. She was nothing like a <em> payashē, </em> I could tell, but the lack of armor...she clearly wasn’t afraid of being hunted. But was that confidence in her battle skills, or obliviousness to the world around her? </p><p>I was inclined to think the latter. </p><p>After all, she was here, feeding me, talking to me, even though she must know that if I managed to get out of here I would kill everyone in this dwelling. </p><p>She would not be exempt from that. Although, I thought, I could allow her some grace. A quick death, in thanks for the foods. </p><p>It wasn’t until I was done with the food that I realized she’d asked to see me -- only that -- and I had deigned to let her look for far longer than I had to. I burnt the cloths as I’d done every time before and, meeting her gaze, grinned at her. I hoped she’d enjoyed her audience. </p><p>She would not be getting another -- unless it was shortly before I delivered her death. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Book 1, Chapter 8-10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The next time the female arrived, I heard her coming from well beyond the door. Her footfalls -- so light compared to the other <em> hh’ainun </em> -- were heavier than usual, her stride quick. She entered and I heard the telling <em> click </em> of the fake lights coming to life. </p><p>“All right!” she called. </p><p>I gazed towards her heat, laying flat on my back both from boredom and an increasing lack of strength. I refused to admit I’d been waiting for her arrival, my focus sharpening as the room cooled in reaction to the coming of night, anticipating her return. </p><p>My mood wasn’t the greatest for socialization right now, however. I was irritated -- more so than usual -- and the summoners had bothered me again today. I’d given them nothing, not a glance nor a sound, as they tried everything they could think of to lure me into agreeing to their contract. It was aggravating. </p><p>I wished they would give up already, but from what I was learning of the <em> hh’ainun, </em> they didn’t <em> give up </em> easily. </p><p>After all, this female kept coming back to me, didn’t she? And <em> she </em> was the fearful one! </p><p>I wondered how much of the human kind had a similar lack of survival instincts. </p><p>“Are you paying attention?” she prompted, once she’d seated herself before the circle. “Tonight, I brought you the <em> entire </em> cake -- minus the piece you ate yesterday.” </p><p>My gaze narrowed. I could sense a thread of untruth to her words, most notably on the word “entire”. But what had me more curious was the implication that the wedge of <em> cake </em> I’d eaten yesterday had merely been a piece of the whole. Picturing it in my mind, the curve and angles, I estimated my piece had been one of six -- provided they were all sized the same and the whole followed the curved edge and not the straight one. </p><p>I snorted at her, even as a part of me yearned for the rest on offer. “Should I be flattered, <em> payilas?” </em> I mocked. She was doing nothing but extending the length of my torment -- and I was the fool who was allowing it. </p><p>I should never have spoken to her. </p><p>Strangely, my words caused the heat of her form to brighten, if only slightly. And she replied with forced carelessness, “If you don’t want it, I’ll just take my cake and leave.” </p><p><em> No. </em> </p><p>I dispelled the cloud of shadows immediately, possessiveness rising inside me. She’d <em> baked </em> the cake for me, brought it to me -- it was mine. Maybe I was being <em> zh'ūltis, </em> drawing out my own death like this, but I would take what pleasures I could for as long as it was on offer. </p><p>I gazed over her briefly -- she wore a larger garment over her top half today than yesterday -- before my gaze snagged on the food. Four pieces sat there, situated on a dish. </p><p>I’d expected five, and now I understood why I’d felt a lie in her words: she -- or someone else -- had taken a piece. Irritation bubbled to the surface again; that was <em> mine! </em> Whoever had taken it had stolen it from me, as far as I was concerned. </p><p>Though my stomach cleaved with want, I refused to touch the pieces yet. “What do you want this time?” I demanded. </p><p>To my surprise, she said, “I want your name.” </p><p>I had three, now. “Which one?” </p><p>She made a dismissive gesture. “Not your summoning name.” Whatever that meant, I thought. “Your personal name.” </p><p>She wished to know that, then? I smirked, amused and -- pleased, perhaps? -- to think that a <em> hh’ainun </em> would bother. The summoners had never asked my name, after all; I gathered it wasn’t important to them. </p><p>My irritation waned just enough that I decided to sit up, giving her my attention. Or, more precisely, the food. She was just my conduit <em> to </em> the food. </p><p>As I settled into place, though, she blurted, “You--you have a <em> tail?” </em> </p><p>Her surprise pricked at my curiosity. I glanced over my shoulder involuntarily, unable to help but wonder how she viewed a being with a tail, given she didn’t seem to have one. Unless she did, and I had never seen it? </p><p>“You do not?” I checked, looking her over; I saw no tail. “How do you balance?” I wondered, thinking of how often she’d tripped and fallen over the few times I’d seen her. Normally she walked just fine, but other times she couldn’t seem to keep her feet in place. </p><p>“I balance just fine,” she returned. </p><p>Clearly, she did not. “Because <em> hh’ainun </em> are slow,” I concluded. She only tripped when she moved quickly, after all. </p><p>Seeming satisfied with that, she reached for the dish, and now I noticed the pieces of cake on individual cloths. But though she put the piece close to the circle, she didn’t push it past the silver line. </p><p>Impatience churned. </p><p>“Your name,” she prompted. </p><p><em> “Ch,” </em> I chuffed, considering it. She held my stare, for once not a single waft of fear coming from her. I almost lamented that; her skittish reactions had always been amusing. </p><p>After a moment, I answered, “Zylas.” </p><p>“That’s your name?” she checked; did she think I was speaking something else? “Zylas?” </p><p>She said it wrong. “Not <em> zeeeellahhs,” </em> I retorted, offended. Couldn’t she say it right? I directed, “Zuh- <em> yee- </em>las. Try again.” </p><p>“Zee-las.” </p><p>That was the same as the first time! “Zuh-<em> yee- </em>las,” I corrected again. “Three sounds, not two.” </p><p><em> “Zyee-las,” </em> she tried. </p><p>I give up. “Close enough.” </p><p>Offended, she returned sharply, “I’m trying my best here. <em> My </em> name is much easier to say. Robin,” she informed me. </p><p>“Robin?” I echoed, then recognized how much rougher my pronunciation of her name had been. Maybe I shouldn’t have pushed so hard, I admitted to myself; our languages clearly differed drastically. </p><p>She almost looked surprised at hearing her name in my accent. Then, giving a pleased grin -- I stared, bewildered at her reaction -- she finally pushed the cake over the edge of the circle where I could reach it. Opting to ignore her odd response, I shoveled the food down my throat. </p><p>It tasted just as good as before, which was a mild surprise. A day’s wait hadn’t changed its texture or flavor. How had she kept it so well, I wondered? </p><p>“You never said if you like it,” she said then. </p><p>Baffled, I checked, “Your name?” </p><p>“The cake,” she corrected. </p><p>Ah, that. I held back a smirk, dropping my gaze to the <em> cake </em> again. I wasn’t going to say anything at all about the taste -- for numerous reasons, at this point. After all, anything I professed to like or dislike was going to be used against me. Best remain silent. </p><p>Plus, it made her squirm and shift with impatience. It was funny. </p><p>“What else do you want?” I hinted. </p><p>She was quiet then, thoughtful, and I wondered if her next question was going to echo her last: what I thought of her name. I’d put the idea in her head, I could tell. </p><p>Then she said, “How old are you?” </p><p>How -- what? <em> “Ih?” </em> </p><p>“Huh?” she returned. </p><p>That was the second time she’d made that sound. I concluded it was the <em> hh’ainun </em> equivalent of <em> ih. </em> </p><p>But what did her question mean? I could only stare at her, puzzling over the word “old”. My mind supplied me with an easy association -- <em> age </em> -- but I didn’t understand what that meant, either. The spell the <em> hh’ainun </em> had used to make me understand their language had done nothing to supply explanations of words for which I had no equivalent, it seemed. </p><p>That was frustrating. </p><p>Robin rephrased, “How many years have you been alive?” </p><p><em> Years? </em> Picturing what that one meant -- the full breadth of a world’s cycle -- I stared at her in confusion. “You count this?” I checked, bewildered by the idea. What was the point of counting the world’s cycles? It had no impact on a person -- unless, for <em> hh’ainun, </em> it did? </p><p>“Yes, of course,” she confirmed, seeming equally confused. “I’m twenty.” </p><p>“Twenty?” I echoed. Unbidden, my mind made sense of this number, but it couldn’t be accurate. I looked her over, checking for her <em> age </em> this way. Annoyed, I said, “I learned your numbers wrong. Twenty is wrong.” She was far, far too <em> old </em> for that few numbers. </p><p>Seeming to take that as an invitation to teach me, she held up her hands and began leading me, saying, “One. Five. Ten. Twenty,” as she flashed her fingers. </p><p>...Twenty was <em> not </em> wrong, then. I had counted correctly. But that meant… “How long is a year?” I asked. Perhaps that was where the problem lay? </p><p>“Uh...three hundred and sixty-five days, so…” she answered. </p><p>Three-- I fought an urge to grumble, irritated. Why such a ridiculous number? I scrubbed a hand over my face as a different kind of exhaustion settled in me. <em> “Dilēran. </em> I do not know this. I have no numbers,” I admitted. More accurately, I had no context for what <em> hundred </em> meant, nor why she attached <em> six </em> to <em> five. </em> What did any of that mean? </p><p>She seemed disappointed by that but accepted it, sliding over another piece of the cake. </p><p>A grudging respect reached me. Even if the answers I gave did not satisfy her curiosity, she still upheld her end of the bargain. I tore into the food, absently tonguing the inside of my mouth for more of the flavor. Then I prompted her, “What else?” Two pieces remained and I wanted both. </p><p>“What do you keep calling me? <em> Payilas?” </em> she asked. </p><p>She pronounced it wrong again. I fought an urge to sigh. <em> “Pah-yil-las,” </em> I enunciated. “It means small female.” </p><p>Her face twisted in dislike. </p><p>Satisfaction reached me. I knew she wouldn’t like it -- that’s why I’d chosen it. I gestured for the cake. </p><p>“You don’t get a piece for that little answer,” she denied; I glared. Then, almost to herself, she hummed, “Hmm, what else..” </p><p>Impatient, I waited for another question to come to her mind. Why hadn’t she chosen these questions ahead of time? She’d known she would be coming here with four <em> pieces of cake, </em> and knew that I would offer answers in trade for them. We had done this before. </p><p>The way she stared at me was uncomfortable. She eyed all over my face, as if still in disbelief that I didn’t look like some other kind of creature. At length, she said, “Why did you show yourself to me this time? You didn’t have to.” </p><p>What kind of question was that? “To see you properly,” I answered easily. “Wasted question, <em> payilas.” </em> </p><p>She didn’t seem to think so, replying quickly, “See me? You mean you can’t see me through the darkness in there?” </p><p>Another wasted question. “No eyes can see without light,” I said, my impatience growing. “I can see in a different way but it is...not details,” I struggled. And why was I saying this much? It didn’t benefit me to give her so much information so readily, yet I was speaking anyway. </p><p>Was it simply easy to speak with her? Or was it more that I’d never truly been able to speak so freely before? The <em> payashē </em> of the <em> pashir </em> where I had grown up had never spoken to me, and the <em> payapis </em> had cautioned against it, anyway. The others would obey her will, yes, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t harm, hinder, or torment me if I drew any sort of attention to myself. </p><p>I had only had lessons and arguments and taunts. Having such a conversation as this one, with neither insult nor threat...it was strange. Pleasant, but strange. </p><p>Perhaps that was why I held such intrigue for this female, then? She was speaking to me in a way none other had before. And I thought...maybe she felt as isolated as I did in this prison. Perhaps she was reaching out to me as much as I was to her. </p><p>It...didn’t feel bad. </p><p>She was leaning forward with interest, eyes wide. “What sort of different way?” </p><p>Her language clashed in my mind, but I tried to answer. “I can see...hot and cold. Shapes of heat,” I said, hoping she would understand. Was she <em> ahktallis </em> enough for this? I thought so, given how often she poured over the tomes in this room. </p><p>Her eyes lit up in recognition and delight. “No way!” she declared. “You have infrared vision? Like a snake?” </p><p>A pleasant sensation had taken root in me from her excitement, but it dulled in response to her words. Puzzled, I admitted, “I do not know these words.” The lack of explanation in that language spell, again -- it was irritating. </p><p>She hurried to answer, “Infrared is a spectrum of light and a snake is an animal. A reptile -- long and skinny with scales and -- wait,” she stopped herself, rising. “Hold on.” </p><p>Mentally reeling from the rapidfire terms she was giving -- many of them incomprehensible to me -- I could only watch her in a mixture of confusion and curiosity as she ventured to the tomes. My head tilted as she looked for a specific one, retrieving it and flipping it open. My curiosity increased, suddenly very interested in what was in those tomes. I hadn’t seen any <em> hh’ainun </em> writing before; what did it look like? </p><p>“Here!” she declared; I straightened with interest. </p><p>Target found, she came back over and kneeled at the edge of the circle, holding the book up for my perusal. “This is a snake,” she explained. </p><p>An image was on one page, and her finger tapped it. I leaned in for a closer look, having difficulty making sense of the winding image; my head collided with the solid edge of the prison’s dome. I recoiled and hunched lower, focused on the image and inwardly glad that the <em> payilas </em> wasn’t chuckling at that clumsy move on my part. To the contrary, I smelled her fear return; was I too close for her own comfort, then? </p><p>Once I had the creature understood, its head and lack of limbs, offense rose. “How am I like this animal?” I demanded. I was nothing at all like the creature in the image. “It is nothing like me,” I told her. </p><p>Startled, she returned, “Snakes can see heat too.” She drew back then, flipping the book around in her arms. Looking down at it, she continued, “It’s called ‘infrared thermal radiation sensing.’ Humans don’t have that ability.” </p><p>That was good to know, I thought, though I’d already suspected as much. My mind picked apart the words she’d said, though only one of the four made any sense. Ignoring it, I dropped my gaze to the dish, silently demanding it. </p><p>She gave it, proving again her intelligence. She understood much from very little. </p><p>Again, I ate the piece and she watched. It was disconcerting, but I allowed it. For now. </p><p>Then she asked, “You said you wanted to see me properly. Why?” </p><p>“Why not?” I returned, wondering why she hadn’t put this together on her own yet. Opting to explain further in case her intelligence wasn’t what I thought it was, I continued, “Only three <em> hh’ainun </em> come here -- you and two males.” I had seen a third before, but only briefly. “I see <em> them </em> only with... <em> infrared thermal radiation sensing,” </em> I told her, saying the words carefully to make sure I spoke them correctly. It wasn’t easy, though, and a part of me hated that I was learning <em> more </em> of their baffling language. </p><p>She looked uncomfortable at that, though I wasn’t sure why. And then she admitted, “I’ve seen two demons. Including you.” </p><p>That got my attention. Was there another here? “Two?” I echoed. </p><p>She flinched back as if my direct attention was too much for her. Then, hedging, she said, “There’s a second summoning circle here with a demon in it.” </p><p>So there <em> was </em> a second! For the first time in several cycles, a renewed hope reached me. If there was another, and this other knew a way to escape… </p><p>“Who is the other? His name?” I demanded. </p><p>“I don’t know,” she answered. </p><p>“Describe him,” I directed. </p><p>I shouldn’t have been surprised when she did so, but I was. Did this <em> payilas </em> have no idea how to protect herself? Giving information so freely...it was a hazard. </p><p>“Um...very large,” she started, as if picturing him. “Long horns, big wings, a thick tail with a bony plate on the end.” </p><p>A <em> Lūsh’vēr?! </em> No, not one -- him! Tahēsh! <em> “Na? </em> Him?” I checked, cruel delight filling me. I laughed, head falling back as the weight of this truth descended. I may have been summoned -- a Vh’alyir -- but so had a <em> Lūsh’vēr! </em> </p><p>Tahēsh was the eldest demon alive, aside from the <em> payashē </em> -- and now he was <em> Dīnen </em> no more. I pictured him in a circle like mine, the same size, hunched up in a ball because he could not fit elsewise. </p><p>“To see his arrogance ground under a <em> hh’ainun’s </em> foot…” I mused, yearning. “I would like to watch that.” </p><p>Robin had recoiled further, startled by my amusement, and now she asked cautiously, “You...you know that demon?” </p><p>Settling, I met her gaze, pointing at the dish with the cake. “Ask,” I prompted, opting not to answer such an obvious question. </p><p>Her fear had definitely returned. She wore it like a shroud, so plain upon her, as if she had no idea how to mask such things. She must not, I determined. She was unused to fear. Perhaps that was why she startled so easily, why she folded in on herself when confronted with force. </p><p><em> Nailis. </em> </p><p>She was quiet for a long moment. Then, “Okay. My final question...why won’t you talk to the summoners? The other demon--” </p><p>Whatever fragile goodwill I’d held for the female evaporated and I struck as if I could reach her, my fist colliding with the solid yet invisible dome. Ripples ricocheted through it and the female jolted back hard, my rage returning in a harsh wave. </p><p><em> “Kanish!” </em> I spat at her, burning on the inside. Everything -- everything had been a lie! Truth to her words, yes, but lies in all else! “They sent you, didn’t they?” I accused harshly. “A meek <em> payilas </em> to disarm me, <em> na? </em> Make me pliant?” It had worked, and fury overtook me at the realization. <em> “Satūsa dilittā hh’ainun eshanā zh’ūltis!” </em></p><p>She pushed herself further back, silent, as terror blanketed off her, filling the room. </p><p>A thread of doubt reached me -- such fear for a betrayer? I struck again, reminding myself that I could not trust the <em> hh’ainun, </em> no matter what form they took. </p><p><em> “Kanish!” </em> I repeated on a snarl. “Get out of my sight!” </p><p>Because it <em> hurt, </em> damn it all! She’d worked and twisted me so well, making me <em> enjoy </em> these talks, her foods! Such a perfect actress, harmless and weak and so very different from the forceful, demanding summoners before. She’s lulled and lured me so close, made me believe...made me <em> hope… </em> </p><p>I wanted to tear her apart. My magic reacted to the desire, and I had to struggle to keep it from lengthening my claws. It would do no good; I could not reach her. </p><p>“Th-they didn’t send me,” she denied on a whisper, stuttering in her fear. “They didn’t--” </p><p>“Get out!” I shouted, desperate anger flaring in vicious denial of the truth I could hear in her words. </p><p>“Please listen to me--” she started, then cut herself off. </p><p>I bared my teeth to her in warning, silently ordering her out of my sight. Her countenance shifted to outright terror, body quivering under my fury. But she didn’t leave. She looked down, her breathing shaky, but she didn’t <em> leave. </em> </p><p>A whisper of a thought suggested that just maybe she wasn’t being deceitful. I hissed another snarl. </p><p>Finally forcing herself to act in spite of the fear in every of her breaths, she whimpered, “They didn’t send me. I’m not supposed to be down here. I--I only came to read the books. Uncle Jack doesn’t know I’ve been talking to you.” </p><p>Truth. Every word. </p><p>But this situation still reeked of lies. </p><p>“Then you are too stupid to realize they are using you,” I told her, my anger lessened yet still very much present. </p><p>Her gaze dropped away from me again. “They aren’t using me,” she denied. “I barely even talk to them, and when I do, it isn’t about you.” </p><p>Truth, again. But it was too late now. The small enjoyment I’d received at her presence, her words, her food...it was gone, now. The reality of my situation resettled in me, a weight pressing down on me. I would die here, I reminded myself, and though it might not be her fault...she was still one of <em> them. </em> </p><p>It hurt. Anger burned in me to drown it out. </p><p>“When you speak to them again, tell them my bones will turn to dust in this cage, because I will <em> never </em> submit to a <em> hh’ainun.” </em> </p><p><em> Not even you. </em> </p><p>I brought up the shadows again, hiding her true visage from my gaze as much as I was hiding from hers. She had confirmed it, after all: she couldn’t see me in the darkness. </p><p>She couldn’t see how much her deception, indirect though it may be, infuriated me. She couldn’t see how much my fate here in this place...destroyed me. </p><p>I looked away from her heat. </p><p>A scrape, drawing my gaze. She retrieved the dish. But she held it vertically. The cake must not be on it, I thought. Had she left it, then? Even though I refused her question, even though I ordered her way, even though I’d tried very hard to reach her so I could rip her apart? </p><p><em>Zh'ūltis.</em> She would get herself killed this way. </p><p>Her feet carried her away. The sweet scent of the cake remained, a quiet promise within reach. I ached for it, but I didn’t want more of this female’s pity. </p><p>I resisted for as long as I could, that scent teasing and tempting me. Then, begrudgingly, I took it. She wouldn’t return again, I assured myself. This was the last bit of her -- this one piece. I swallowed it more slowly than the others. </p><p>The cloth burnt in my grasp, and only then did I realize why I was still doing it. The first time had been to see how she would react. </p><p>Now I was doing it...to hide its evidence. To protect her from the repercussions of these visits. </p><p>I just didn’t understand why. </p><p> </p><p>-- </p><p> </p><p>Robin...returned again. </p><p>I shouldn’t feel surprised. She was a seeker of knowledge, and this was a den of it. Tomes lined every wall. </p><p>I couldn’t help smelling for more foods, though I berated myself for it. I wouldn’t accept her pity again, I told myself. Instead, I watched her. Maybe she was here for a tome -- maybe not. But after last night’s disastrous ending, I couldn’t trust her. Even if she didn’t want to make me suffer or accept the contract, those around her did, and there was no knowing how much <em> they </em> might be manipulating <em> her. </em> </p><p>She pulled out one of her hidden tomes, saying, “I can feel you watching me, Zylas. I’m not here to pester you,” she told me. “I’m just getting something.” </p><p>Fatal interest swirled in me. But what else was there to do? Maybe I didn’t need to trust her to gain her knowledge. </p><p>“Getting what?” I said, unable to keep an edge from my tone -- not that I was trying. </p><p>Her heat approached, only the barest of hesitations to her step. She held out the tome she’d selected; unable to see what it was, I had no choice but to dispel the darkness. </p><p>No choice, I told myself as her vision appeared. </p><p>“A book?” I checked, as if I didn’t know that already. </p><p>“A book about demons,” she clarified, crouching. She tapped on the object, saying, “I’m learning how summoning and contracts work.” </p><p>Another thread of distrust wound through me. Why was she studying this? Did she hope to sway me, now that she knew I was willing to talk to her but not <em> Uncle Jack? </em> </p><p>She eyed me, her brows drawing with concern. Under her breath, hesitant, she said, “Um. Are you...okay?” </p><p>Okay? </p><p>I was <em> dying. </em> And no amount of her foods or conversations would stave off the inevitable. I was finally realizing that every bit of interaction we’d had so far was only making the end harder to accept. </p><p>It was <em> her </em> fault. </p><p>I made to answer, to tell her to leave me to my demise -- and then I heard it. The summoners were returning. Confusion descended, even as I swiftly brought the darkness back. They never came in the cold -- why were they coming here now? </p><p>Something churned in me. There was no place Robin could hide from them except in my circle with me. I couldn’t help wondering what the <em> hh’ainun </em> would do to her for this transgression; she wasn’t supposed to be down here, she’d said. She was disobeying their wishes. </p><p>The summoners entered, their conversation cutting short when they spotted the <em> payilas. </em> She reacted wrong, clutching the book in her arms but otherwise unmoving, not even pretending to not be squatting directly in front of the circle. </p><p>They will suspect the truth… </p><p>“Robin?” the man I understood to be ‘Uncle Jack’ snapped. “What are you doing in here? I told you to stay out!” </p><p>The other summoner’s voice said, curious, “Were you talking to the demon?” </p><p><em> No. </em> This was bad. She didn’t lie, this <em> hh’ainun, </em> she told the truth -- she would tell them! And then they would use this to twist and torment me further! </p><p>She gasped, “No!” </p><p>Untruth soured the word, and I balked. She lied? </p><p>“I--I--I just wanted to borrow a book,” she stammered. </p><p>Lies. All of it. </p><p>Jack stalked to her, his heat merging with hers in my sight, but even so I saw him yank the tome she’d held from her hands. “What are you doing with this?” he snapped. “Have you read any of it?” </p><p>She’d read it for hours and hours… </p><p>“N-no,” she denied, voice shaky. “I only just got it a minute ago--” </p><p>He didn’t allow her to finish speaking. Their warm visions shifted, and I saw him pulling her away by her arm. A quiet fury burned to life within me at the treatment; <em> no one </em> would dare treat a <em> payashē </em> like that, pushing and pulling them. Why was it okay for <em> hh’ainun </em> males to do it to their females? </p><p>She was forced from the room, and the male continued chiding her from outside the door. It was harder to hear their words from such distance, but I could hear his anger and her quiet, shaking replies. Her fear was so strong it could reach me in here. </p><p>Such a weak, small <em> payilas. </em> It stirred memories in my mind, reminding me of a time when I was weak and small, as well. </p><p>I had grown strong. It seemed Robin had not. </p><p>It...bothered me. </p><p> </p><p>-- </p><p> </p><p>Five cycles passed. The summoners returned daily, their demands shifting to account for Robin. They knew she had been lying, though they couldn’t have possibly guessed the scope of it. And their desperation increased as well. I was weakening, but far more slowly than they had expected. Their words were confused, frustrated, fascinated; they demanded to know how I was lasting so long without food, heat or light. </p><p>I would not speak. </p><p>And then she returned. </p><p>I was already huddled in on myself, trying to stay as warm as I could, but when her scent reached me… It wasn’t a decision. I squeezed myself, yearning burning to life within me. The conversations we’d shared had been so simple and small, but they’d offered a comfort in my long death. I wanted more, even as I refused to speak to her ever again. </p><p>It was easier this way. </p><p>I didn’t watch her. Didn’t look. I kept my eyes closed, my arms around myself, unmoving if I could help it. My heat had made a warm spot on the floor and I was loath to leave it. </p><p>I could hear her shuffling around, her footsteps so clear in this hollow room. My lip twitched. She had no idea how to move quietly. It was no wonder she’d been caught here before. </p><p>Whatever she wanted, she wasn’t finding it. Though I didn’t allow myself to look -- her heat so tempting in the dark -- I couldn’t stop myself from <em> listening. </em> And her motions were sharp, frantic. She growled in irritation. Then her weight settled heavily on the ground in front of me. </p><p><em> Damn it. </em> I’d chosen to lay this way so the summoners would see nothing but my back in case my darkness <em> vīsh </em> failed. Why did she have to choose to sit <em> there? </em> </p><p>“Zylas?” </p><p>I coiled in tighter on myself. </p><p>She waited to see if I would reply. I didn’t. I wanted her gone. Her presence was warm and bright and I resented it. </p><p>“I have a question,” she said, audibly fidgeting. “If you answer, I’ll bring you something tomorrow night.” </p><p>I didn’t want anything. Not anymore. <em> Leave me to my death in peace. </em> </p><p>It wouldn’t be long, now. </p><p>She forged on as if my silence was acceptance. “Did you see who moved the books from this shelf and where they took them?” </p><p><em> Out. </em>I knew nothing beyond this room, but they’d been taken out. </p><p>I considered telling her that. She would leave me then, right? </p><p>My tongue held. </p><p>I...didn’t truly want her to leave, I realized. Hearing her soft voice as I breathed my last...it would be a mercy. </p><p>“I know you don’t trust me,” she continued gently. “I just need this one answer. I won’t ask for anything else.” </p><p>Fitting. I could give her nothing else. Just words. No -- I <em> would </em> give her nothing else, I corrected, thinking of the contract again. Because, if I was honest, if I was forced into a contract, I would prefer her over any of them. But I wouldn’t agree to that, either. </p><p>I’d memorized the terms of the agreement. I would not give up all that I was for anyone, not even the small female who kept visiting me in my final days. </p><p>When I remained silent, her concern grew. “Are you still there?” she asked, and I heard her shift closer. She was looking for me. </p><p>A breath of her heat reached me. I couldn’t resist drawing it in, small though it’d been. </p><p>“I’m not leaving until you acknowledge me,” she said more firmly, then. Was she irritated at my silence? It hurt to talk. I wouldn’t. “I’ll sit here all night and annoy you.” </p><p>Would she, truly? I was tempted to test that. I’d been silent for <em> weeks, </em> by her words. I could outlast her. </p><p>But...I didn’t want to. Every second that she sat there, another beat of her warmth passed into my cage. I was drawing it in by instinct, desperate to live in spite of my acceptance of my death. </p><p>“Go away,” I managed past the cold dryness of my throat. She was forcing my agony to stretch out even longer. </p><p>She made a sound, like a gasp that had been cut off. “Zylas? Are you okay?” she asked. </p><p>She sounded scared. How silly. <em> She </em> wasn’t the one dying. </p><p>“Let me see you,” she said, moving closer again, her heat despairingly close. My instincts demanded I take it for myself. </p><p>My mind knew I could not reach her. </p><p>“Come on,” she prompted, a touch of desperation in her voice. “If you do, I’ll bring you something extra good next time I can sneak down here.” </p><p><em> I do not want it! </em> </p><p>She waited. I held my tongue, every part of me in pain and her presence increasing it all. Then, changing tactics, she declared, “If you don’t reveal yourself, I’ll throw a bucket of cold water on you.” </p><p>Fear flashed through me. I was dying -- but I didn’t want to die. I dispelled the darkness, but shame at my pitiful state kept me huddled in a tight ball. I didn’t want her to see me like this, desperate for warmth, desperate to live. </p><p>Shocked, she gasped, “What’s wrong? Are you…” </p><p>Did I have to answer that? It was the most <em> zh'ūltis </em> thing she’d asked yet. With effort, I forced my eyes to open, but though I wanted to glare, I could feel that my muscles refused to form an expression at all. </p><p>“Come to watch me die, <em> payilas?” </em> </p><p>I meant the words to be mocking. </p><p>They sounded more like a croak. </p><p>“No,” she denied, breathless. “No, I…” </p><p>Then what did she want? The summoners kept mentioning a breaking point; was she seeking it, too? Did she want me to accept her contract in place of theirs? </p><p>“I will not submit,” I forced past the weakness in my lungs. </p><p>“I know,” she choked, then swallowed. “Zylas, is there anything I can do?” </p><p>Confusion. Do -- to achieve what? What was her goal? With effort, I lifted my gaze to her eyes, trying to pick apart her mind. “Do?” I prompted. </p><p>“To help you,” she said urgently. “To--to--” </p><p>Bleakness descended. “To keep me alive until I submit?” I challenged with as much strength as I could muster. </p><p>Pain wafted to me -- not mine. “No. I know you won’t become a contractor’s puppet. I just…” She paused, struggling. “It isn’t fair that you’re dying because they summoned you.” </p><p>Fair? </p><p>What in this world or mine was <em> fair? </em> </p><p>I pulled my limbs closer, hiding my face as much as I could. A faint feeling of irritation tried to take hold; my tail managed a weak twitch in evidence. </p><p><em> Just go and leave me to die, Robin. </em> </p><p>“Tell me how to help you,” she said. </p><p>The yearning returned. I wanted relief, comfort, <em> time </em> . I wanted to complete my life’s goals. I wanted to <em> live. </em> </p><p>But living, now, meant suffering -- if not a long death, then submission. Either way, my life was misery from now until death. </p><p>Faintly, a memory arose. Another demon was here. Tahēsh. If I lived, I might find a way out...but only if I lived. </p><p>I relented. </p><p>“Food. Heat. Light. Not fake light,” I clarified. The fake ones in the ceiling did nothing. </p><p>“Heat and light?” she checked. “And food? Those will help you?” </p><p>I managed a nod. </p><p>“I’ll be right back. Hold on,” she said, her motions audible as she rose and darted from the room. </p><p>I waited, but I did not hope. I did not expect her return. I wasn’t sure I truly wanted it. Whatever she brought me, would it even help? Not for long, at the least. What was better, I wondered in the increasingly delirious swirl of my mind: a long death, or a quick one? </p><p>I could make out noise from above as she moved, but I was beyond the ability to track her. Her urgent steps carried promise with them, at least. She was <em> trying. </em> </p><p>When was the last time anyone had <em> tried </em> to keep me alive? </p><p>She returned. A weak grimace twisted my features, still undecided if I truly wanted to prolong the inevitable--</p><p>The smell reached me, something new and different, and I felt a caress of heat across my skin. Opening my eyes, I spotted her, holding a bowl in her hands that was so hot I could see steam rising from it. I stared, the desire to live flaring back up again. That heat...it would…</p><p>“This is soup,” she told me. “It’s hot and you can eat it, but you have to promise to give the bowl back and not break it or try to hurt me with it.” </p><p><em> Want it. </em> </p><p>With difficulty, drawn by the billowing heat she held, I forced myself to rise. I reached out. “I agree,” I said, my focus homed in on the bowl. </p><p>She slid it across the line. </p><p>“It’s scalding hot. Be careful not to burn your--” she started. </p><p>I was already dumping it into my mouth. My throat opened in welcome, allowing it pour down my body, and heat bloomed inside me. The absolute relief of it, the comfort...it was so good, battling away the cold of the room and the weakness in my body. Desperate for every shred of warmth, my hands sucked the remains of it from the bowl I held. </p><p>Moisture on my lips drew my tongue, and for the first time I <em> tasted </em> what I had drank. It was...completely different from the cake and cookies she’d brought before, and rich in flavor. Different, but good. I wondered if all <em> hh’ainun </em> foods were as diverse and delicious? </p><p>The food gone, my mind reminded me that this new heat wouldn’t last. I had been given days, if that. Setting the bowl down, I curled up again, determined to at least retain this heat for as long as I could. </p><p>My eyes lifted to hers. Robin, the <em> payilas. </em> The oddity. Why did she do these things? Why did she want to help the dying? Why did she talk and question and return, again and again and again? I was not her young. She had no obligation to care for me. We had made no promises. </p><p>It was as if...and this was absurd...but it was as if she’d decided to be my ally. </p><p>No one allied with Vh’alyir. </p><p>...But perhaps she did not know this? </p><p>She reached out, cautious and uncomfortable, and grasped the bowl. </p><p>We realized it at the same time. </p><p>She had reached past the barrier. </p><p>I could reach her. </p><p>Her warmth blazed like a beacon, tempting. I couldn’t look away from her fingers, her tiny hand. The pale skin, so soft-looking, so clear of wear, was so close I could have exhaled hard and she would have felt it. </p><p>The yearning returned full-force, my drive to live demanding I take her heat while I had the chance. </p><p>But...I didn’t want to. She had done this thing for me. She was risking her freedom and safety every time she came down here. To take her warmth, to kill her, would be...dishonourable. </p><p>I would stalk and wound and kill any other demon. I didn’t care what they called me, what they said, how they mocked my tactics. They would die in the end. This was how I hunted, how I survived, how I brought strength and honor back to my house. </p><p>There was no honor in killing such a weak <em> hh’ainun. </em> </p><p>I made no move as she pulled the bowl out of the circle, though the yearning followed her retreat. Watching her warmth be pulled back out of my reach was a painful thing. Every speck of heat was another glimpse of salvation, and in a moment’s time, hers was beyond my reach. </p><p>I couldn’t decide if I regretted it. </p><p>At last, she exhaled the breath she’d been holding, sagging in place, a hand settling over her chest. I could hear her heart thundering in her chest. She’d been terrified, I realized. </p><p>As if I would kill such a weak thing as her. </p><p>Finally relaxing, she edged back -- to put distance between us, or to prevent herself from slipping like that again? -- and she paused as she made to put the bowl down, confusion twisting her features. </p><p>“It’s cold,” she noted, curious.  </p><p>She hadn’t understood this yet? I shifted, seeking some small measure of comfort; my shoulder ached from laying on it so long. </p><p>“I took the heat,” I told her. </p><p>She put the bowl aside, gaze venturing around the room. “Have you been taking the heat from this room, too? Is that why it’s cold?” she wondered. </p><p>“Only the heat in the circle,” I corrected. I couldn’t reach beyond it with anything, not even my thirst for warmth. </p><p>She considered that. “Demons need food, heat, and light to survive?” she worked out. </p><p>“Food <em> or </em> heat <em> or </em> light. Heat and light are better.” Food took time to be worked into strength, and it took some strength to get it there. With heat and light, it was instantaneous. </p><p>She lifted her hand to her forehead, and a wet <em> slap </em> sounded as her damp sleeve smacked her. When had it been wetted? I hadn’t noticed, but the coloring was similar to that of the <em> soup </em> she’d given me. Had she spilled it on herself? </p><p>Distracted, she started worming her way out of the garment, saying, “In books, demons are always described as creatures of cold and darkness, but you live off warmth and light?” </p><p>I briefly considered answering, but my eyes caught on her skin, high up on her arm. The color was different there, purple and yellow, in the imprint of a hand. </p><p>“What is that?” I wondered. </p><p>“Huh?” she returned, surprised. She looked at the same spot, then answered, “It’s a bruise.” </p><p>There was no translation for that in my mind. “I do not know that word.” </p><p>“A bruise is an injury,” she explained shrugging. “From being hit or squeezed or crushed by something.” </p><p>So easily? <em> “Hh’ainun </em> are fragile,” I concluded. It had been five cycles since Uncle Jack had gripped her by the arm, and it hadn’t seemed to be such a strong hold to me, yet she was discolored from it? </p><p>“Compared to demons, I guess we are,” she allowed. “I can’t stay much longer or Uncle Jack will catch me again. Will you be okay now?” </p><p>A wave of agony returned at the question. </p><p><em> “Eshathē zh’ūltis,” </em> I said, closing my eyes against the truth of my own words. <em> “Īt eshanā zh’ūltis.” </em></p><p>She paused. Then, curious, “What does that mean?” </p><p>She’d forgotten what <em> zh’ūltis </em> meant, then? Annoyed, I answered, “You are stupid...and I am stupid.” </p><p>This was a temporary salve. It wouldn’t last. I was trading one day of torment for another. And as she fell silent, I understood that she knew it, too. She was prolonging my death, nothing more. I couldn’t even say that I particularly liked any memory I’d gained since arriving. Why was I being stupid enough to keep piling them up like this? </p><p>Then, suddenly forceful, she said, “Don’t enter into a contract.” </p><p><em> Ih? </em> I looked at her, surprised. I’d been so sure she was trying to lure me into a contract with <em> her </em> over the others -- well...reasonably certain, anyway -- and she was saying otherwise now? </p><p>“Don’t do it,” she urged. I had never heard her speak with such conviction, and it arrested my attention. “My uncle -- the summoners,” she corrected, “are waiting for you to get weak and desperate. They’ll try to convince you to do it to save your life, but you can’t let them win.” </p><p>She feared this? She thought I was that <em> nailis? </em> I grinned at her, a cruel fury igniting within me. “Do not fear, <em> payilas,” </em> I crooned. “I will laugh at them as I die.” </p><p>“Good,” she agreed, a similar fire in her tone. “They deserve to fail. I’ll laugh at them too.” </p><p>A feeling of respect reached me. Had she been a demon, I might’ve liked to count her as an ally. I gave her a smirk, but it didn’t last. I was tired -- beyond tired, really -- and even conversation added to my lethargy. Perhaps I will sleep through tomorrow’s visit with the summoners. </p><p>“I’ll come back tomorrow night,” she promised quietly, “and remind you that you’ll never submit to one of us <em> high-nuns.” </em> </p><p>The pronunciation of her own kind was almost painful to hear. </p><p><em> “Huh-ah-i-nun,” </em> I corrected. </p><p>That seemed to amuse her somehow, and she gave a strangled laugh. Then, sobering, she said, “I’ll see you tomorrow night.” </p><p>She was still here? “Go away, <em> payilas.” </em> I wanted to sleep a while and she was noisy. </p><p>I heard her move, heard the rustle of her garments and the scrape of the bowl, and then her feet carried her away. Relief and yearning twisted in me in equal amounts. As much as I wanted rest, I also didn’t want to be alone. </p><p>She paused. “Zylas,” she said, saying my name wrong again. “Darken the circle.” </p><p>Ah. I’d forgotten. My tail shifted as I cast the spell, and a part of me marveled at what had just happened. I’d forgotten to hide myself -- because I’d been that comfortable in Robin’s presence? The hollow pit of loneliness in me -- so easily ignored until now -- became deafening. </p><p>Though I’d told her to leave, I wanted her to return. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Book 1, Chapter 11-13</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The summoners returned again -- three of them, this time. And they were <em> furious, </em> Jack most of all. He berated, shouted, sputtered, howled. At times his voice rose in pitch so much I doubted he was male. But though they struggled to make sense of my continuing resistance, they eventually gave up and left. </p>
<p>A weak but satisfied smile turned my lips. Their failure was my final victory, and I was savoring it while I had the cognizance. </p>
<p>And then she returned again. </p>
<p><em> Robin. </em> </p>
<p>That hollow yearning took me again. I barely even noticed a similar yet new scent accompanying her. </p>
<p>She’d come back, just like she promised. The warmth she’d given me yesterday had held up better than I’d expected, but perhaps that was the food taking its time inside me. </p>
<p>“Zylas?” </p>
<p>Maybe I was delirious from hunger and exhaustion, but I liked the sound of my name on her lips. </p>
<p>I dispelled the darkness, seeking her visage. Such an alien creature, in the little ways, I thought. Her eyes, especially, were so strange, but I couldn’t deny that the blue of them were lovely to behold, like the midday sky. </p>
<p><em> “Payilas,” </em> I cooed. </p>
<p>She held something in her hands, a dish different from those she’d carried before. A cup, I concluded, but with a curve to its side; my muddled mind suggested it was a <em> handle. </em> </p>
<p>“How did it go today?” she asked, quiet. </p>
<p>That very question reminded me of my lethargy. “They are more <em> mailēshta </em> than before,” I complained. </p>
<p>I didn’t realize I’d used a Demonic word until she replied, “What does that mean?” </p>
<p>Thinking was difficult, but I made the effort. “Annoying,” I translated. “They are annoying.” </p>
<p>She was quiet for a moment, then offered the cup. “I...brought this,” she said. “You don’t have to drink it if you don’t want to, but it’s hot.” </p>
<p>I exhaled, debating on whether or not I should take it. I supposed every day I continued to maintain my darkness was another day the <em> hh’ainun </em> lost their minds in frustration; that was a worthy effort. I pushed myself up, twisting to face her and folding a leg under me. When she placed the cup on the silver inlay of the circle, it occurred to me that this time, she hadn’t asked me to promise not to break it or throw it at her. </p>
<p>She trusted me not to. </p>
<p>...An impulse to shatter it on principle came to mind, a little rebellious inclination. Instead, I lifted it -- and paused. </p>
<p>This was obviously a drink and it smelled like the <em> double-chocolate brownie cookies, </em> but some manner of fluffy white semi-solid concoction was on its surface. Curious, I poked at it, confirming it wasn’t going to get lodged in my throat. Then, satisfied, I tipped the liquid down my throat. </p>
<p>The scalding heat felt like a shot of pure power, the burn feeling incredible. Aches and pains brought on by weakness faded just a little. </p>
<p>I put the cup back where she could reach it. Then, reminded of how I hadn’t given her anything in return for last night’s soup, I prompted, “What do you want?” </p>
<p>She looked confused. “What do you mean?” </p>
<p>Gesturing the cup, I clarified, “For that.” </p>
<p>She glanced at it. “I don’t need anything.” </p>
<p>I couldn’t hold back an aggravated noise. “Ask,” I ordered. I was nearing the end, and it was growing closer night by night regardless of how much heat and food she brought me. I was determined to at least owe her nothing by the time I...was no longer here. </p>
<p>“But…” she started, then paused. She mulled it over, seconds ticking by, while I waited. And, eventually, she arrived at a decision. </p>
<p>“I want to touch you.” </p>
<p><em> Ih? </em> The request reached me but failed to make sense. I repeated, <em> “Touch </em> me?” as if saying it aloud would help me understand. </p>
<p>Her face turned red, a reaction for which I had no understanding. “Just--just your hand, or--” she stuttered, then took a breath. After a second, she explained, “In that circle, you’re like a...a vision or a dream. I want to touch you so I can feel that you’re really here.” </p>
<p>That didn’t help my confusion; I kept staring at her for several more seconds, vainly trying to grasp the logic behind that request. What did <em> touching </em> have to do with anything? Besides, she thinks <em> I’m </em> the vision? For all I knew, I was the only thing that was real about any of this! </p>
<p>And then a wicked, despicable idea crossed my mind. </p>
<p><em> “Ch. </em> Fine,” I agreed. If I did this right… </p>
<p>She was catching on already, I could see. She knew my acceptance wasn’t entirely innocent. She sensed the hunter. Was she foolish enough to try, anyway? </p>
<p>She edged closer. </p>
<p>She was foolish enough, I thought, that yawning pit of yearning in me echoing loudly. </p>
<p>“Put your hand against the barrier,” she directed. </p>
<p>Though I resented being ordered, I played along, pressing my hand against it. Ripples cascaded through the air in response, proving I had done as she asked. She lifted her opposite hand, hesitating, shaking, scared -- with good reason. </p>
<p>Then: contact. Two little presses of her skin, warm compared to mine. Those digits slipped up from my heel to my palm, then up my index finger. Against my will, I admitted it felt...nice. </p>
<p>When was the last time anyone had touched me without the intent to kill? </p>
<p>She grew braver as I held still for her exploration, checking my thumb, then a knuckle. She was riveted, and the more she focused on my hand, the more curious I became of her own. Her skin felt different -- softer, squishier. Weaker. </p>
<p>She felt over my claws next, and I realized for the first time that she didn’t have the same; her nails ended further back. And, finally, she pressed her palm to mine, our fingers aligning. The warmth of her hand felt divine against mine, and it was so much smaller, too. Delicate. </p>
<p>Still caught in wonder, she met my gaze, her fear falling away, her defenses surrendering. </p>
<p>I shifted, drawing my hand back a fraction. Hers followed. </p>
<p>I had her. </p>
<p>My fingers clamped around hers, intertwining them in an inescapable grip. Panic crossed her features, eyes going wide, body turning rigid. Unmoving. </p>
<p>Foolish. </p>
<p>I pulled. Her strength was so pitiful she had no resistance, her body sliding towards me despite her tense hold on herself. Even in my weakened state, she was no match for me. <em> Hh’ainun </em> truly were as weak as I was led to believe. </p>
<p>Then the tears started. Her breath caught in her throat, but those tears...she was terrified, and rightly so. She’d willingly touched a hunter, allowing him close. I had no inclination to <em> kill </em> her -- not yet, anyway -- but at the very least, she needed to learn this lesson. </p>
<p><em> Never </em> approach the hunter. </p>
<p>I flipped her hand over, bringing my other hand up to give her a similar examination to the one she’d given me. At first I did as she’d done, running two fingers over her palm, and then I grew distracted with what I was feeling. Were all humans so...soft? Her fingers were small and weak, I saw as I tested each. Her nails were as much so, nowhere near strong enough to defend herself. </p>
<p><em> Hh’ainun </em> were <em> drādah. </em>Not built for the hunt. Built for the run. </p>
<p>And she did not even run. Pitiful. </p>
<p>I tugged her skin, recalling how she’d explained bruises and how easily she’d changed colors from it. Her muscles twitched at the pressure, though she remained silent. And I saw more blue on her wrist, drawing my curiosity. </p>
<p>I pushed her garment out of the way, looking closer, fingers tracing the colors. A faint thump from within confirmed a thought: those were her veins, visible through her thin, soft skin. And, now that I was closer, her scent was luring me in more. I brought my nose to her skin, breathing her in. </p>
<p>Fear hit me first, the scent overpowering all else. But there, underneath it, was her own scent: sweet, seductive, promising. Almost involuntarily, I licked her soft skin, and her flavor delivered on that promise. She tasted lovely, as delicious as any of her foods. </p>
<p>But what of her blood? Demons had promised that human blood was beyond compare. Her scent hinted at it. I hungered. </p>
<p>She wouldn’t miss a few swallows, I reminded myself. </p>
<p>Meeting her gaze again, I pulled harder, drawing her in. And, finally, she fought, trying to find a grip on the smooth flooring and gasping in terror. She could try all she liked; she was mine, now. </p>
<p>She fell over on herself as she passed the threshold, huddling. That wouldn’t do. I hauled her up by her arm, snagged her chin, lifted her face. <em> I had her. </em> </p>
<p>Finally. This creature, so confusing and alluring and intriguing, was here, in my grasp. She couldn’t fight back -- not against me. I held all the power. </p>
<p>No, I corrected. Not <em> all. </em> Some of it was in her body, in her veins. That heat pumped against my skin, increasing in beat and intensity by the second. Her terror was literal fuel for me. Tears down her face, eyes wide, breath sawing rapidly through her lips; she was practically food, already. </p>
<p>It made me laugh. I couldn’t resist a tease -- little, like her, whispered for her ears, alone. </p>
<p>“What does your blood look like, <em> payilas?” </em> </p>
<p>She almost collapsed, a choked sound coming from her lips. </p>
<p>The door moved. I heard it before I saw it, my gaze latching onto it, fury overtaking me at the interruption, mind spinning with a demand of who it could be--</p>
<p>Robin yanked back from me, her strength surprising me. She slipped free of my grasp, and I could’ve held on -- could’ve caught her -- but didn’t. She flung herself out of the circle, clear of me, and I summoned the shadows again, hiding in the anonymity of it. </p>
<p>I watched her, grinning. That was fun. </p>
<p><em> “Robin?” </em> </p>
<p>Her heat pivoted on the floor, facing the door. So shaken as she was, she couldn’t even stand; she crawled away from the circle, towards the other. Travis, I knew. He crouched beside her, checking on her. Concern? </p>
<p><em> Zh'ūltis. </em> She’d gotten herself into that situation. She deserved what happened to her. Besides, she was clearly fine. I hadn’t hurt her. </p>
<p>Not yet, anyway. </p>
<p>“Robin, are you okay?” the male checked. “Are you hurt?” </p>
<p>She didn’t answer, still heaving shaking breaths. </p>
<p>More forceful, he continued his questioning, “Did the demon grab you? Why would you get that close?” </p>
<p>Fighting for breath, she finally choked out, “I -- I didn’t…” </p>
<p>Apparently giving up on questioning her, he reached down, getting a grip on her. Then, hauling her up to her feet, he started muttering quietly, “Dad mentioned you’d come down here to get a book. Robin...the demon lured you over, didn’t it?” </p>
<p>I smirked. Would he believe that it’d happened in reverse? </p>
<p>“It tricked you into getting so close,” he suggested. </p>
<p>She didn’t answer, so the male continued. </p>
<p>“Did it talk to you? What did it say?” His forceful question had her flinching away; he held her tighter. “It’s not your fault. You didn’t know any better. Demons can be very manipulative.” </p>
<p>Oh, if only the <em> hh’ainun </em> knew the truth of those words. </p>
<p>Leading the way, Travis half-dragged the <em> payilas </em> with him, saying, “Come on. Let’s get you out of here before Dad gets back.” </p>
<p>That got her attention. “You won’t tell him?” she checked, quivering. </p>
<p>“No,” he denied, “I won’t tell Dad or Claude, but...Robin, if the demon spoke, I need to know what it said.” </p>
<p>Truth, I concluded. How curious. This “Travis” was a student of sorts to Jack, yet he wouldn’t reveal this to the senior caster? How dishonorable, I thought, eyes narrowing. This place was a house, Jack was the eldest male -- he was <em> Dīnen, </em> was he not? To hide things from one’s own house <em> Dīnen </em>…</p>
<p>These <em> hh’ainun </em> could not be trusted, even by their own kin. </p>
<p>Then, to my surprise, Robin replied quietly, “I heard...whispering.” </p>
<p>Lies. </p>
<p>I tilted my head at her, baffled. Why was she lying now, of all times? </p>
<p>“I went over to try to hear, but the words...weren’t English.” </p>
<p>My brows drew together as I watched her. Was she still lying in protection of <em> me, </em> after all that? Impossible. She must have a different reason--</p>
<p>Ah. It made sense in another moment. </p>
<p>She was protecting <em> herself. </em> She wasn’t supposed to be down here, and less so now that she’d been caught disobeying “Uncle Jack”. If she admitted having come down here for any reason except subterfuge, she would be punished. </p>
<p>Travis sounded suspicious as he led her up the stairs, but at this point I hardly cared what they had to say. I ignored their words, not even trying to listen. It was over. </p>
<p>I reclined back on the ground again, scowling at the feel of the cold floor. I’d missed my chance at getting some of her blood, but at least I’d gotten another moment of entertainment out of her. </p>
<p>The yawning pit reasserted itself as I replayed the last few minutes. Maybe I shouldn’t have teased her like that, I thought. She <em> was </em> the only person in the entirety of my life who’d given willingly, demanding nothing in return. Granted, that was the most <em> zh'ūltis </em> thing a person could do, but a part of me...had liked it. </p>
<p>At the very least, she’d been helpful in distracting me for short spates of time. Now she was definitely never returning, and I’d spend the last of my hours in silence and solitude. She would not come back, we would not talk again, I would taste no more of her foods. </p>
<p>It was just as well, I supposed. I wouldn’t want her to think of me with <em> fondness </em> after I was dead. I could give her that much: something to hate. </p>
<p>If only she’d given me the same. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>-- </p>
<p> </p>
<p>There were new ones in the room. Three of them. But these ones were different from those who’d come before. I could feel a maliciousness in them, far worse than the <em> hh’ainun </em> who lived here. They felt familiar, like the denizens of my own world. And they didn’t speak to me, didn’t even try; they spoke to one another, waiting. </p>
<p>When I caught Robin’s name in their speech, I knew their plan, and a cold grip settled over me. </p>
<p>They were going to use her, maybe hurt her, maybe kill her. </p>
<p>My teeth bared in quiet fury. </p>
<p>They moved across the room, idly touching the tomes and discussing how they were going to force the <em> payilas </em> to cooperate if she refused. None of them seemed keen on the idea of cajoling her the way the summoners had been trying with me. No, the moment she refused, they would begin <em> bruising </em> her. </p>
<p>It was despicable. Torture was for the weak. The strong killed fast, took what they want, dove in and out without being spotted. Only the weak used force and pain; the strong could simply take. </p>
<p>These <em> hh’ainun </em> were <em> nailis. </em> </p>
<p>More footsteps from beyond the door. Two sets, one heavy, one light. <em> Payilas. </em> The other was bringing her, the male Travis. She had no idea what was waiting for her. </p>
<p>Consider yelling. Calling out. They would hear, but she would hear, too. Would she run? No -- if I called, they would know. They would know I knew her. Had spoken. They would hurt her more. Have to pretend, be silent, ignore. </p>
<p>Don’t know her. Don’t care. </p>
<p>But this would only work if she pretended, too. Would she? Would she know to pretend? Could she convince them? </p>
<p>Time would tell. </p>
<p>She enters. I barely see her through the dark, her heat almost hidden by the others. She falters, confused, scared. Her fear reaches me. </p>
<p>Travis speaks, pulling her with him. “Come on, Robin, don’t be shy.” </p>
<p>Another man speaks. “This is her?” </p>
<p>“Yep,” Travis answers. He pushes her in front of him, into the gazes of the others. <em> “This </em> is the only person the demon has spoken to. It lured her close enough to grab her.” </p>
<p>I almost snarled. <em> Betrayer! </em> He said he wouldn’t tell Jack or Claude, but he’d told others. </p>
<p>“And she survived?” one of the men questioned, doubtful. </p>
<p>“My arrival must’ve startled the demon,” Travis offered. “She fell out of the circle in complete hysterics.” </p>
<p>Carefully-orchestrated hysterics, actually, I thought, my fury rising. </p>
<p>“Is she an apprentice?” one asked. </p>
<p>“Nope,” Travis answered. “Doesn’t know shit about demons. She’s a sleeper.” </p>
<p>I was willing to bet she knew more than they did, at this point. </p>
<p>The one who’d spoken the most so far made a noncommittal sound, then came closer to the <em> payilas. </em> “All right, girl,” he started firmly. “I don’t like wasting time, so I’ll make this quick. We want that demon to talk, and you’re the one it wants to talk to, so you’re going to help us, understood?” </p>
<p>She hedges. That’s bad. She doesn’t know what I know. </p>
<p>“H-he didn’t talk to me,” she stammers. “I--” </p>
<p>He strikes her, a hard slap, and she stumbles back from the force, falling into Travis. Rage claws at my throat, teeth bared threateningly. </p>
<p>“Didn’t I just tell you I hate wasting time?” he demands. </p>
<p>The two others don’t react, but Travis speaks up. “Hey. There’s no need to hit her.” </p>
<p>“I’ll decide that,” the man says. “Keep your mouth shut and let the adults handle this. Now get the demon talking,” he orders Robin. </p>
<p>When she hesitates, Travis pulls her around, driving her towards my prison -- exactly the last place she’d ever want to be. I’d made sure of it. </p>
<p>“Talk to it, Robin,” Travis says. Then, to himself, “This isn’t going how I expected.” </p>
<p>Finally regaining her voice, she whispers angrily, “Why did you bring me here?” </p>
<p>“Because I’m the <em> stepson,” </em> he says as if it explains everything. “Dad will never give me a demon name, so I need money to buy one.” Fidgeting, he tries, “Look, we can help each other, okay? Amalia told me Dad is hoarding your inheritance. I can help you with that. Once I get the contract bonus from these guys, I can hire a lawyer. Whatever you need.” </p>
<p>She looks at him. Is she considering it? She can try, I allow. I won’t speak to her again, but she can try. I’d broken her trust in me on purpose. If she betrays me, I won’t blame her. </p>
<p>“Get on with it!” the male near the back snaps. </p>
<p>Travis tries again, “Please, Robin.” </p>
<p>Seeming to shake herself, she relents, clearing her throat. “Uh, demon?” she ventures. “Would you say something...please?” </p>
<p>I scowl at the crowd, wishing I had even a fraction of my power and ten seconds of freedom. I would tear them all to pieces. </p>
<p>Robin could live, I decided. She hadn’t earned my ire. </p>
<p>At my silence, she continues, “Demon, if you’ll talk to me, I’ll give you...uh...something...at your request.” </p>
<p>Clever, I think. Trying to tempt me while remaining vague enough that the others wouldn’t guess that she already <em> had </em> given me things, let alone what they were. She was choosing her words well. She hadn’t even said my name, hadn’t revealed that she knew me that well. </p>
<p>“You don’t have much time left,” she says. “This is your last chance to get something you want.” </p>
<p>
  <em> I want to live. Can you give me that? Can any of them?  </em>
</p>
<p>I banish the thoughts. I had chosen to die long ago. </p>
<p>She pivots, speaking over her shoulder. “The demon isn’t stupid. He knows what you’re doing. He won’t speak while you’re here listening.” </p>
<p>That’s when it hits me: she calls me ‘he’. Not ‘it’, like the others. She recognizes me as a being, a person -- the others see me as a tool. I blink up at her from my crouch, a phantom heat reaching me. I think...perhaps...I was going to miss her. </p>
<p>“This is moronic,” one of the men at the back declares. “The demon doesn’t want to <em> talk </em> to the girl. It was trying to get her in the circle. It wants blood, not conversation.” </p>
<p>My limbs grow more tense, that heat vanishing from within me as my attention rivets to the speaker. If I had even a split second free of this prison, I would tear his throat out first. </p>
<p>The leader of the trio agrees, “Fair point. Let’s see if we can tempt the beast, then.” </p>
<p>
  <em> No. </em>
</p>
<p>The third male, silent until now, comes forward. He grabs her, holds her, spins her around to face me. He’s the biggest of them, and it’s ridiculous; she’s so small, any of them could’ve easily held her like that. It was stupid. They were stupid. </p>
<p>They were <em> dead. </em> </p>
<p>Travis was forced away from the pair. “Whoa, hey!” he says, alarmed. “What are you--” </p>
<p>The leader doesn’t let him speak, interrupting, “I told you to keep quiet. Vince, take over.” </p>
<p>The other comes closer, stops by her. She’s too scared to move -- again. The prey. <em> Drādah. </em> I hadn’t thought she would be <em> this </em> incapable of protecting herself! She could barely squirm, her terror holding her prisoner, as caught in that male’s hands as I was in this cage. </p>
<p>“Demon,” the one at her side says. “You want this girl. Show yourself and you can bargain for her.” </p>
<p>My mouth opens, lips parting, a predatory warning. I could already taste his flesh, his blood. </p>
<p><em> “What?” </em> Travis says, shocked. “You can’t--” </p>
<p>He’s interrupted by the leader again. “Were you planning to let her walk out of here and tell your father how you went behind his back to steal his demon?” </p>
<p>“I--I’ll pay her to keep quiet--” </p>
<p>The male snorted. “Get out of the way or we’ll remove you -- and our deal is over.” </p>
<p>Such a weak threat, such a weak male. Travis obligingly moved aside, her last possible line of defense folding. </p>
<p>“Well, demon?” the speaker at her side continues as if he’d never been interrupted. “Do you want to bargain for the girl?” </p>
<p><em> I would murder all of you for her. But bargain? Never. </em> </p>
<p>“Maybe it doesn’t think you’re serious,” the leader says. </p>
<p>Taking that comment as an order, he moves, and I vaguely notice something cold and straight in his hand. It flicks, and I hear the familiar sound of flesh ripping open. </p>
<p>She screams, convulsing, struggling. My heart thuds. It begins. They will torture her to get what they want. Can’t do anything. Stuck here, trapped, nothing I could do now -- and her, <em> payilas, </em> so weak and little and helpless, paying for all her selfless visits. </p>
<p>His hand flicks again, towards me, and warmth splatters on the floor and my hands. Smells like metal. Smells like <em> her. </em> </p>
<p>“Have a taste, demon,” the male says. “You can have the rest. Just show yourself.” </p>
<p>My fault. Should never have spoken to her. Lured her? Yes, I admitted. I had. I’d lured her, maybe unintentionally, and now the <em> nailēris hh’ainun </em> will kill her for it. </p>
<p>“Let me go,” she gasps. <em> “Let me go!”  </em></p>
<p>Not right. Wrong. Never endangered anyone else before. Always just me, fighting, killing, running, hiding, waiting. No others. Don’t know what to do. How to feel. She had done nothing. She had not hurt these men, harmed their houses. Never harm those who don’t deserve it. No need to. </p>
<p>“Please,” she begs. “Please let me go.” </p>
<p>Small. Helpless. Defenseless. </p>
<p>“Demon,” the male says, ignoring her. “Your time is running out. Or rather, hers is.” </p>
<p><em> Kill you! </em> </p>
<p>“If you want her fresh and kicking, answer me now.” </p>
<p>I <em> will </em> answer -- with claws and teeth and tearing and breaking! I will rip him to pieces, peel his skin, pluck out his eyes! I will--</p>
<p><em> How?! </em> I am trapped, helpless as she is...</p>
<p>She turns to the other, her kin. “Travis, help me,” she sobs. “Don’t let them do this!” </p>
<p>Eyes darting, seeking, planning. How to make this work? How to reach her, reach <em> them? </em> No way out of the circle -- tried before, again and again, no magic works, no weaknesses anywhere--</p>
<p>“No!” she shouts, her voice shrill with her panic and pain, wrenching herself harder. But the hands hold tight. “The demon will never talk to you! He’ll never do it! Let me go. Just let me go!” </p>
<p>The dark slash moves again and she screams again, so much louder than before. She yanks hard enough that the hands slip and she flails, her feet failing to find purchase. She tumbles into the podium, knocks it over. </p>
<p><em> Kill </em> all <em> of them! </em> </p>
<p>Bloodlust fills me. Never wanted to kill so badly before. Never wanted to slash and bite and rend so much, the rage flowing in every vein. </p>
<p>They pull her back. Another sharp motion, another fresh wave of blood scents the air. They push, she falls, and I hear it. <em> I hear it. </em> </p>
<p>Salvation. </p>
<p>The infernus. The only thing that could release me from this prison. It’s somewhere under her. But how much time does she have? How long can a <em> hh’ainun </em> survive while bleeding so much? </p>
<p>“Last chance, demon,” the torturer continues calmly, as if he hadn’t just murdered a helpless creature. “You have about ten minutes until she bleeds out. We’ll wait.” </p>
<p>They move a step away. It’s enough. </p>
<p>I shift, moving to a lower crouch, finding the edge of the circle. My forehead touches the barrier. I stare hard, seeing her clearly in glimpses where the darkness swirls. She looks over, as if she could hear my silent command to <em> look. </em> </p>
<p>She sees me. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>--</p>
<p> </p>
<p>I press a hand against the barrier, then the other. Beckoning. <em> Come to me. Reach for me. </em> Salvation awaits for us both. </p>
<p>She looks, but I don’t know if she <em> comprehends. </em> </p>
<p>I see her blood in glimpses, pooling beneath her. So much of it. How much can the <em> payilas </em> lose and still remain cognizant? <em> Risk it. </em> It’s our only chance. </p>
<p>Intelligence in her eyes. Thoughts banked there, decisions, options. Her gaze dulls. Decided. </p>
<p>She reaches for me. </p>
<p>My heart races faster. <em> Yes, payilas -- just a little closer! </em> I press harder against the invisible wall, determined to reach her somehow--</p>
<p>The males notice her movement. “What’s she doing? Stop her!”  </p>
<p>One dives, grabs her ankles. </p>
<p><em> No! So close! Can do this -- reach, payilas! </em> </p>
<p>She reaches. Her hand passes through the barrier. </p>
<p>I snatch it. <em> Got you. </em> </p>
<p>I pull, stronger than the <em> hh’ainun. </em> Their grips fail and she almost flips over herself as my pull wins. I catch her, all of her, propping her against me. She lives -- but cold. Weak. Weaker. And the infernus? I feel her, find it; relief. I have her, she has that; victory is ours. <em> Dh'ērrenith.  </em></p>
<p>I find her blood, her wounds. I clamp my hand on it. She sobs in pain. </p>
<p>Then, terrified and quiet, she speaks. “Zylas--” </p>
<p>She says it wrong, but I don’t care. It sounds lovely right now. </p>
<p>“Please kill me quickly.” </p>
<p>“Is that what you want, <em> payilas?” </em> I whisper to her, drawn in close so the frantic males can’t hear. Surprise must be mine; can’t let them know what I’m doing. </p>
<p>She’s so scared, trembling against me. “I did what I could to help you,” she says, and I admit she’s right. “Please don’t make me suffer.” </p>
<p>Suffer? Not my style -- though the humans in the room beyond...they would suffer, at least a little. </p>
<p>“What do you want?” I prompt her. A deal must be made. I wouldn’t take her soul and give nothing in return. </p>
<p>She chokes on air. “I don’t want to die,” she begs, and I feel it echoed inside me, too. </p>
<p>She’s bleeding too much. I grip her wound tighter, stopping the blood. “What do you want from me?” I say more forcefully. She doesn’t have enough time to be so vague. </p>
<p>She shakes, confused, breathless, her mind faltering. Not a good sign. </p>
<p><em> “Payilas,” </em> I hiss urgently. </p>
<p>“Protect me.” </p>
<p>Good. A strong bargain, worthy of a soul. </p>
<p>Now she has to offer it. </p>
<p>“What will you give me?” I demand. </p>
<p>I can’t tell if she’s confused or delirious from blood loss. She struggles to think, to answer. Then, finally: </p>
<p>“Cookies. I made you cookies before.” </p>
<p>“Cookies?” I echo, disbelieving. I hold her tighter, press my lips to her ear; the males have grown more quiet. “Promise me your soul, <em> payilas,” </em> I direct her. </p>
<p>Brief silence. Then, “No...I can’t give you…” </p>
<p>“Would you rather die?” Would you rather we <em> both </em> die? </p>
<p>“I...but I can’t…” she struggles. </p>
<p>“I need your soul, <em> payilas.” </em> I need to go home, and I can’t get there without a soul. </p>
<p>“But <em> I </em> need my soul,” she argues, and I realize she’s too far gone to understand. I can’t coerce an agreement out of her like this. </p>
<p>I give an angry huff. How else would I get back home but with a <em> hh’ainun </em> soul? And did I have the time to try and force it? She was dying, my <em> payilas, </em> growing cold in my arms. I had to make a decision -- one that would determine <em> both </em> our fates. </p>
<p><em> “Fine,” </em> I allow, angry with her -- and myself. “I accept.” </p>
<p>Now I had to be quick. I had to release her wound to seal the contract. Her hot blood on my hands -- don’t draw it in, she needs it still -- I catch the infernus and hold it between our palms, my fingers entwining hers around it. </p>
<p>“Now seal it,” I order her. <em> “Enpedēra vīsh nā.” </em></p>
<p>Would she know to say it back? Does she know even this much? </p>
<p><em> “Enpedēra vīsh nā,” </em> she echoes. </p>
<p><em> Kasht! </em> She <em> does </em> know! As red light fills the dark between us, power linking us together, pain tears through us both, but I hardly care. We will both survive this day, and the next, and the next! <em> Vh'renith vē <span>thāit</span>! </em></p>
<p>She screams. Again. It is temporary; she will be fine. </p>
<p>The humans outside the circle are confused. They haven’t noticed the missing infernus. I grin, anticipating the slaughter to come. They will bleed and bleed, and I will laugh. </p>
<p>The light fades. She pulls her hand away, shaking, bleeding again. </p>
<p>“Now, <em> payilas,” </em> I purr to her. “I need strength. How much heat can you spare?” </p>
<p>“Heat?” she wonders, lost. </p>
<p>Her throat is cold when I reach for it. “Not much,” I conclude. I take a little -- just a little. She twists away, gasping, her skin rapidly cooling under my grip. It is enough. </p>
<p>I rise to my feet, lifting her with me. I can’t stand upright, but I don’t need to. I put the infernus around her neck, holding her against me; her strength fails to keep her on her feet. </p>
<p>“Stand, <em> payilas,” </em> I direct her. “All you must do is leave the circle. I will do the rest.” </p>
<p>“Leave?” she echoes. She was trembling all over, her wounds and the cold too much for her. </p>
<p>My hands move to her hips, readying. “Yes. Are you ready?” </p>
<p>She wasn’t. She was already threatening to tip. But she had to get out before she could bleed to death, so I decide for her. </p>
<p>I let the darkness fade. The humans freeze, staring, all attention on the demon and the contractor. <em> It is time. </em> I grin, revealing my sharp, hungry teeth. </p>
<p>I push her; she stumbles through the magic, tripping over her feet. I barely see it. </p>
<p>
  <em> Kish lēvh! </em>
</p>
<p>My body vanishes, and I feel it, feel myself becoming one with the infernus. A second passes. The inside...it is endless, empty grey, so close in sensation to <em> Ahlēvīsh, </em> yet so different. I wait another second, have to make sure Robin is clear of the circle. Then I step out, forming with my feet on the ground above my defenseless, fragile, dying <em> payilas. </em> </p>
<p>Silence and stillness greets me, the humans frozen in place. </p>
<p>I reach wide, drawing my magic, unfurling my claws. Standing upright again, at long last, feels incredible. </p>
<p><em> “Ahh. </em> It feels good to move again,” I muse, eying my prey. Who will be first? </p>
<p>There was a brief moment of silence, and then their stun wears off. </p>
<p>“It’s unbound!” the leader shouts. “Call your demons!” </p>
<p>Ah. They also hold an infernus, each. Best not to allow them the chance, then. </p>
<p>I leap, my speed feeling so exhilarating after my long stay in the prison. I push myself harder for the fun of it, twisting around the big one. I send his infernus spinning, dart behind him, tear a chunk out of his spine, twist to his front...and remove his throat with a swift slash. </p>
<p>He drops, choking on his blood. </p>
<p><em> The one that had held her. </em> </p>
<p>“Run!” the other male calls, the one who had cut her arm. </p>
<p>No. He will not be leaving. I zero in on him, vaguely recognizing that my <em> payilas </em> had fallen to her front in exhaustion. Not much time; must be quick. Faster. </p>
<p>The three males dash for the door. Travis is the first out. I seize the torturer before he can take a step, throwing him into a shelf of tomes; he falls. The leader makes it to the door. Deal with him later; my prey is still here. </p>
<p>He scrambles, shouts, screams; he twists and tries to regain his footing, hand clasping at his infernus. </p>
<p>I’m already there. With a wrench of my hand, his wrist snaps, hand folding backward with an agonized scream. The infernus slips from his fingers. I tear it away as I had the first, sending it skittering across the floor. He screams again, like my <em> payilas </em> had, and I seize his throat, crushing it in my grip. </p>
<p>I hold his gaze, sucking his warmth from his body, from the room, from the other’s spasming corpse. Strength returns in a blissful, suffusing wave. The terrified male kicks his feet. </p>
<p>Enough of that. Holding his head in both hands, I twist it violently to the side, snapping bones and ripping tendons apart. His body convulses, then goes limp. Life remains in his eyes for a moment; I steal the last of his heat and it fades. </p>
<p>Task finished, I spin, checking on my <em> payilas. </em> She’s alive, but not for much longer. Her body quakes and shudders, skin paled almost to white. That was unlikely to be a good sign. </p>
<p>I pounce on her, flipping her to her back -- <em> carefully, </em> I direct myself. She’s so fragile, so weak. </p>
<p>“Do not die, <em> payilas,” </em> I tell her; her eyes, unfocused, do not see me. </p>
<p><em> Quickly. </em> </p>
<p>Bracing myself over her, I seize her wounded arm and her chest. I give her back her warmth, plus more. Then I summon my <em> vīsh, </em> picturing the runes with painstaking certainty. The circle appears under her arm. Her eyes begin to focus, first looking towards the results of my bloody vengeance. </p>
<p>
  <em> Is it not beautiful, payilas? Is it satisfactory? Are you pleased?  </em>
</p>
<p>Her disoriented gaze finds mine. The spell is ready. I hold her eyes and speak the words. </p>
<p>Her eyes go wide with shock and pain, body arching, and then she drops. Limp. </p>
<p><em> Panic. </em> Had I killed her? Were humans weak to <em> vīsh?  </em></p>
<p>No, I conclude a moment later. Her heart beats yet, racing in her pain and terror. She lives. Unconscious, yes, but she lives. </p>
<p>I turn my eyes to her wounds. They stitch closed, her skin sealing, her blood replenishing. But something is...wrong. As the <em> vīsh </em>fades, I frown, lifting her arm in confusion and curiosity. Something went wrong with the spell? </p>
<p>Lines mar her skin where the wounds had been, slightly raised, slightly lighter in color. Is this something all humans did when they healed? Or was this a reaction to my demon <em> vīsh? </em></p>
<p>I look her over, seeking any other similar marks on her skin. Nothing stands out along her arms, her neck, her face. </p>
<p>I pause, hovering over her. The metal rims she wears on her face...this close, I can see clear glass within them. They bend the light, and I lean left and right, fascinated. Plucking them off her face, I slip them onto my own, mimicking the way she had them placed. </p>
<p>I squint. Everything looks <em> wrong </em> through them; why did she wear them? Another <em> hh’ainun </em> oddity? I pull them off, shaking my head. What a strange object. But she’s worn them every time I’ve seen her; did she need them? </p>
<p>Deciding to ask her about their mystery later, I replace them on her face, hooked over her ears. Satisfied that they appear to be sitting correctly, I survey the room once more. What to do, now? </p>
<p>My mind ventures to Tahēsh. He is somewhere on the grounds, yes? Too bad my <em> payilas </em> fell unconscious. I would have to search to find him. First, however… </p>
<p>Lifting her head, I tug the infernus from around her neck. I have to hide this somewhere on her. There are pockets at the front of her leggings, but they aren’t deep enough to hold the large disc. My mind casts back; there were more pockets at her rear, larger than the front. That would do. </p>
<p>Feeling for one, I dip my fingers inside to confirm the depth. Good enough. I wrap the infernus chain around the disc, then force it into the pocket. That done, I shift to rise -- then pause. </p>
<p>Looking down at Robin again, I compare how she looks now to how she had looked during her former visits. Her skin is still pale, and she quivers incessantly in her sleep. Reaching out, I give her a bit more of my heat, slowly, carefully. I wasn’t sure what too much warmth would do to a <em> hh’ainun, </em> especially one as small and fragile as this one. </p>
<p>My <em> infrared </em> helps with this, and I keep watch of the shifts in her heat until it looks normal. Then, satisfied, I rise. </p>
<p>Time to check on Tahēsh. </p>
<p>I was already grinning. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>-- </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Now that I was free, powered, and aware, it wasn’t hard finding Tahēsh. In fact, I found him so quickly I decided to explore the <em> house </em> first. It had many chambers, most of them far too open, as if the kin here didn’t spend much time in any of the rooms. Following scents, I found Robin’s chamber easily enough, another I recognized as Jack’s, and another as Travis’s. They all had separate sleeping dwellings. </p>
<p>What a curious tradition. </p>
<p>Finding a window, I finally got a look at the outside of this place. It was dark out, the road lined in more dwellings similar in size to this one. A <em> pashir! </em> Well -- of a sort, I corrected. More fake lights dotted the horizon, curving left and right and vanishing into the distance. Scores of them twinkled in the distance. If every few lights equated a single house, then this number of them…</p>
<p>Too many to count, I thought, bewildered. Humans must live together in great, loud communities that would put any demon house to confusion. I itched to explore them, but I couldn’t go so far from my <em> payilas. </em> She might have need of me. </p>
<p>The sky wasn’t so different from Ahlēavah’s, darkness sweeping the above and dotted with stars. Clouds left it only halfway visible, though none were storming at the moment. I wondered about that; was it common in the <em> hh’ainun </em> world to have clouds with no rain? </p>
<p>I moved on, noticing oddity after oddity in the house. Boxes of wood and metal, various kinds of seats in different sizes and shapes, isolated plants -- fake, I concluded after yanking several leaves off one; what was the purpose of a <em> fake </em> plant? -- images on the walls and small stands, some of them perfect echoes of reality and others not… </p>
<p>So many new, strange things -- and no one to explain them! Huffing, I replaced a statue of some small creature back where I found it, opting not to destroy anything until I knew what they were. </p>
<p>Then, finally, I strode to my true target: Tahēsh. </p>
<p>I saw the edges of him before I came into <em> his </em> view, chuckling darkly. His face raised at my voice, hatred burning in his eyes -- and the fury multiplied when he saw it was <em> me. </em> </p>
<p>
  <em> Dīnen et Vh’alyir.  </em>
</p>
<p><em> “Look at you,” </em> I crooned in Demonic. I grinned at him, all cruelty and vicious pleasure. <em> “The human magic holding you captive, helpless and weak…”  </em></p>
<p>His lips drew back, snarling back at me. <em> “How are you free, little Vh’alyir?” </em> he demanded. </p>
<p>I wasn’t about to tell him I was bound to a <em> hh’ainun </em> -- especially not my <em> payilas. </em> Instead, I started circling him, amused at his infuriated visage. <em> “I would say it pains me to see you brought so low, but we both know it for untruth. This…” </em> I gestured him, my face twisting in a mocking smile, <em> “this is worth becoming Ivaknen.”  </em></p>
<p>He growled low, the sound more menacing than any animal or beast could match. Most demons would cower at the sound. </p>
<p>I folded my arms, chin lifting. </p>
<p><em> “Speak plain,” </em> he snaps. His eyes are black, his weakness obvious. <em> “What do you want, Dīnen et Vh’alyir?”  </em></p>
<p><em> A way home. </em> </p>
<p><em> “A bargain,” </em> I answered. <em> “Do you know of any ways back to Ahlēavah? Tell me, and I will release you from the circle.”  </em></p>
<p>He stared at me steadily, harshly. He debated. I wait. I can wait for days, weeks; his time is limited. He will give me what I want so he can have what he wants, or I will leave him to die the slow death. </p>
<p>At length, he says, <em> “The soul of a human.” </em> </p>
<p>I scoffed. I knew <em>that!</em> <em>“Other ways, Tahēsh! We all know this one.” </em></p>
<p><em> “You asked for a way. I gave it. Release me,” </em> he ground out. </p>
<p>I narrowed my eyes. <em> “You know nothing,” </em> I concluded. </p>
<p>He snarled, vicious as a trapped beast can be. </p>
<p><em> “You know nothing,” </em> I repeated. <em> “If you did, you would have left already, na?”  </em></p>
<p><em> “Hold to your bargain!” </em>he shouted, his words shaking the very air with the strength of his lungs. </p>
<p><em> “For such trickery? I think not,” </em> I decline, turning to leave. </p>
<p><em> “You speak to </em> me <em> of trickery?!” </em> he bellowed. <em> “You are nailēris! Always running, hiding -- afraid to fight!”  </em></p>
<p>I toss him a smirk. <em> “Nailēris? No, Dīnen et Lūsh'vēr. I win.”  </em></p>
<p>He thrashed against the dome holding him prisoner, struggling. Then, desperate, he shouted after me, <em> “No payashē will ever want you! They would refuse one who breaks his word!”  </em></p>
<p>I pause. He had a point with that one. It was my own fault for offering a bargain with such a weak stipulation, not his for taking advantage of it. Begrudgingly, I return. I’m tempted to leave him to die, but I also know better than to stay anywhere near him; he is First House, after all. Weak though he is, he could still kill me if I wasn’t careful. </p>
<p>I glanced around at the space open to me, checking what objects were available. Nothing in this room, but the space above had numerous tools. I replayed them in my mind, deciding. </p>
<p>I wouldn’t let him out -- but I would allow him a few of the tools. Eventually. His freedom would be his own. Just...not quite yet. </p>
<p><em> “I will return in the day,” </em>I told him. After I had regained my strength -- provided there was a “day” in this world. Then I’d give him something to break through the magic. </p>
<p>His rage grew, but the promise, at least, soothed him somewhat. </p>
<p>Weak as he was, he wouldn’t be able to break the magic immediately -- and even then, he’d prioritize gaining strength before hunting me. Ideally, he’d hunt the <em> hh’ainun </em> summoners before that, too. It was still some time before day; if this world was anything like Ahlēavah, a sun should appear, and its rays should offer strength. </p>
<p>If not, well, I’d retrieve my <em> payilas </em> and leave. </p>
<p>Quickly. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Book 1, Chapter 14-17</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>This <em> hh’ainun </em> world was so different, I mused, watching them from atop this dwelling. It was dark and the roads were mostly deserted, yet the few humans who strode along them were neither hunting nor fighting. They didn’t attack one another. Were they <em> all </em> from the same House, then? </p><p>I puzzled over what I was seeing until dawn, noting the changes in the humans as time passed. Their appearances grew more sparse with time, halting completely a short time before dawn. Then, as the sky began to lighten in shades of blue, the clouds steadily becoming painted in vibrant shades of orange, pink and violet, I found a comfortable place to lay upon the roof. A flat spot, hidden from <em> hh’ainun </em> sight. Less direct than the sloped parts, but I would accept it. </p><p>I would sacrifice this much, show patience. Caution. I must have caution. </p><p>I pulled off my sleeves and chestplate, baring more of my skin as I faced the light. At the first rays of the -- <em> yellow? </em> -- sun, warmth blanketed me, and I closed my eyes to savor it. Finally, finally, <em> finally! </em> After weeks -- months? -- I finally felt the touch of the sun! </p><p>It wasn’t the same, not exactly. The heat felt different. But I absorbed its light and heat all the same, relief and power and contentment surging in me. I sighed. Then, eyes cracking open, I watched it, marveling at the similarities and differences between this <em> vayanin </em> and the ones of Ahlēavah. </p><p>The sky didn’t look the same. The sun blazed yellow, not blue. The color was...softer, somehow. Is this why <em> hh’ainun </em> were so soft? So fragile? Their sun was soft, so they were, as well? </p><p>My mind returned to Robin. She would be waking soon, I thought. The humans slept every night for a third of a cycle, usually. She had been hurt, as well, so perhaps she will sleep longer? I keep my ears open as I close my eyes again, allowing the sun to fill me. </p><p><em> Kasht. </em> It is taking longer. My sun, the Ahlēavah sun, was more powerful. It filled us quickly, which is why we do not bother to fight in the day. We can’t run out of strength as long as the sun is in the sky, and--</p><p>Cold washes over me. I scowl, opening my eyes. </p><p>Clouds. They have blocked the light. Clouds -- in the time of sun. This world was frustrating. The heat continues to warm me, yet, but the light has been taken. I look, judging the movement of the clouds, the path of the sun. It will return, I conclude. </p><p>It does, but it takes time. Impatience makes my tail swish and thump, so hungry to be <em> full </em> again. </p><p>A rumble approaches before I am finished, drawing closer and closer until it reaches the dwelling. I look. The sun has arced over to the other side of the sky, starting its descent. The noises...I listen, hear voices, recognize them. </p><p>The summoner -- and others. Two others. Female, both; vague recognition. I had never seen them. They were not here when I was freed, but they are here now. </p><p>No time left. The sun is almost gone. I promised to return to Tahēsh before its disappearance. I jump from the roof, resetting my clothing and armor. I dart under the small dwelling of plants, snatching up bladed tools as I go. No time to taunt, to toy, to play. I throw them to Tahēsh, clattering across the floor. </p><p>He jolts at my appearance, seizes on the bladed tools, and smiles a cruel, victorious smile. I don’t wait. I shut the door to his chamber, and -- halfway up the stairs, where none can see me -- say the command to myself. </p><p>
  <em> Kish lēvh.  </em>
</p><p>It is time to return to my <em> payilas. </em> </p><p>I feel her before the draw of the infernus takes me. Her mind is still quiet, still blank. She hadn’t moved. As I join the infernus, listening, waiting, I wonder how long Tahēsh will wait before taking vengeance upon this dwelling. Robin will need to be awake and far, far away by then. </p><p>I will take her from here if I must, I decide. If she doesn’t wake soon. </p><p>Noise, then. Shouting. Screaming. It reaches me as if from a large, hollow cave, distanced and so difficult to perceive. It’s hard to understand, to make sense of the words. But I still feel her -- Robin -- and I feel her mind wake. </p><p>Slow. Confused. Disoriented. Her name is being called, again and again, and I feel her discomfort almost as if it were my own. </p><p>...I didn’t know the infernus would do this. I don’t know how I feel about it. I think on it, puzzling, as the voices shout and argue, but I don’t hear the others well. </p><p>I hear <em> her </em> clearly as she answers, as if she were here with me, in this expanse of grey nothingness. </p><p>She is lying, again. Protecting herself, or protecting <em> us? </em> Did it matter anymore? We are bonded, bound, tied. </p><p>My stomach twists with dislike. I wish I hadn’t had to do it, but it was the only way, the only option for either of us. We will both have to deal with it, I think, irritated...and yet...<em> not </em> irritated? There was too much to think, to decide. </p><p>This world -- I didn’t want to be here. But after today’s exploration, I admitted myself curious. I would like to see more of it, to understand more of it. If we are bonded, if I stay, maybe it will not be entirely a bad thing. Maybe there will be fun, interest, laughs. Maybe I will see a <em> snake </em> and prove to my <em> payilas </em> that our sight is not the same. </p><p>She is moving. I can feel that, too, in a way I can’t explain. It isn’t the infernus, I conclude. It is her, her motions, her legs. It’s a sense I had never had before. I know where she is, what she’s doing, some of how she feels, and it’s disconcerting and unwelcome but...not <em> bad? </em> </p><p>Her mind is working, active. I can feel this, too, and it confirms what I’d always thought: she is intelligent. Very much so. Her mind is strong and quick -- not as quick as mine, I think, though I could hardly prove that. </p><p>Her emotions flip and twist inside her. I feel them ricocheting between fear, disbelief, confusion, disgust, horror, doubt. She moves, then stops, then moves, then stops. I can feel everything she does, somehow, able to distinguish between her hands, her arms, her legs, her neck. And, eventually, she stops. </p><p>She is...lying, yet not. Her legs hang. Where is she? I can’t tell. </p><p><em> Where is Zylas now? </em> </p><p>I jolt, the words as clear as if she’d spoken them. Drawn by the invitation she couldn’t possibly have recognized as such, I pull free of the infernus, manifesting above her. My awareness coalesces before my body does, and I shift to kneel over her, recognizing now that she’s in her chamber, the door shut, reclined on her bed. </p><p>I look down at her. She’s cleaner than I’d seen her last, free of injury, her skin its normal shade of pale pink. She had changed her garments, removing the bloodstained ones. </p><p>I grin at her, both in unfettered joy -- and to startle her. She’s so tiny and amusing when she’s afraid. But more than this, I’m simply glad to be free of the circle -- and it’s thanks to her. I can recognize that now, can admit that she was the key to my salvation all along. </p><p>She hadn’t summoned me, but by returning to my prison time and again, she’d freed me from it. </p><p>She stared back at me, silent, neither breathing nor moving. Then, as if snapping out of her focus all at once, she wriggles, trying to push herself back; my weight on her hips keeps her in place. </p><p>She’s so precious when she’s terrified. <em> “Payilas,” </em> I chide on a purr. Where did she think she could go to escape <em> me? </em> </p><p>Almost choking, she hisses, “What are you doing here? I thought you’d left!” </p><p>Now why would she think that? “Left?” I echoed, looking at her sideways. She was holding up our infernus; I gave it a tap. “I am bound to this, <em> payilas. </em> So are you.” I had felt just how clearly we both were bound. </p><p>“What?” she demanded, dropping the <em> imailatē </em>as if it burned. “No,” she denied, wide-eyed. </p><p><em> No? </em> </p><p>I leaned over her, hands splayed on her pillow, caging her in. She recoiled, so adorably meek. “Are you not pleased?” I taunted. <em> I </em> was pleased. “I have obeyed our terms.” </p><p>I had killed for her. </p><p>Granted, that wasn’t much of a declaration. I’d killed for myself plenty. I’d killed for my house, for the <em> payashē, </em> for my world as a whole. I’d killed for food, warmth and possessions. I’d killed simply to kill, to train myself in new ways to kill. Killing for a little, helpless human was hardly worth mentioning. </p><p>She swallowed, her mind racing. Even outside of the infernus, I could feel it. Her fear intensified. </p><p>Finally seeming to recall, she forced out, “You mean by protecting me?” </p><p><em> “Protect,” </em> I confirmed with a drawl. I hadn’t considered it before now, but it occurred to me that we hadn’t agreed what that truly meant. There hadn’t been time for it. </p><p>“What does this word mean, <em> na?” </em> I asked her, crouching lower. Her scent -- where it wasn’t doused in fear -- was still so alluring. I was glad I hadn’t killed her; this scent, alone, was worth preserving her life. </p><p>Rooted to the spot, she failed to answer. Her mouth moved, as if trying to force a reply, but no words came forth. Amusing as it was, I’d asked her a question. I expected an answer. </p><p>I lowered my voice, unable to resist teasing her more. “What does it mean, <em> payilas?” </em> I press, absolutely devouring her frozen expression. </p><p>I was liking her more by the second. </p><p>Finally, she choked out, “It--it means you can’t hurt me.” </p><p>That sounded more like a desperate plea. “Is that all?” I prompted. </p><p>“And...and you won’t let anyone else hurt me,” she hurried out. Visibly uncomfortable, she bit out, “Would you move?” </p><p><em> Not anytime soon. </em> </p><p>“That is your meaning?” I checked, amused. That wasn’t how <em> I </em> viewed it -- though, against humans, I hardly saw it as a problem. I hardly had to <em> try </em> to kill them. “You did not tell me this when we made our contract,” I pointed out. </p><p>
  <em> I don’t want to die.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Protect me.  </em>
</p><p>There was nothing in those statements saying I had to stop anyone from causing her harm, was there? Nor any mention of what I was supposed to be protecting her <em> from. </em> </p><p>Her mouth echoed the last word as if just now realizing that that’s what we’d done. She must have been even more delirious than I’d thought, I realized. She hadn’t even recognized that we were naming terms. </p><p>Pleasure filled me. I held <em> all </em> the power, again. Perhaps it was overly vicious of me, but the idea of having power over a female -- even a <em> hh’ainun </em> female -- was delightful. How many demons could make this claim? Few and less, I determined. </p><p>“So,” I told her, inwardly thrilled by this epiphany, <em> “your </em> meaning does not matter.” </p><p>Panic visibly tore through her, and she yelped, “Zylas, <em> get off me!” </em> </p><p>I laughed, relenting. Much more of this teasing and she would fall unconscious again, I thought, getting to my feet. Fun as it was, I didn’t want her fainting. She was far more amusing when conscious. </p><p>She all but leapt off the bed, herself, but then she stood there, unmoving. Trapped, in a sense, nowhere she could go, no haven or escape. I couldn’t resist the urge to circle her, examining her from all sides now that I finally could. </p><p>So <em> little, </em> I thought again. I’d compared her to <em> payashē </em> before, but Robin seemed even more delicate. She didn’t have as much muscle, her skin was thinner, her hair--</p><p>Hnn. Stopping behind her,  I reached out, curious. </p><p>Panicking, she blurted, “You agreed to protect me. So you have to--” </p><p>Ignoring that, I replied calmly, “You did not explain your meaning.” Drawn by the lure of her hair, I selected a lock of it, feeling it. “So <em> I </em> get to decide what <em> protect </em> means.” </p><p>Was I teasing her a bit too much? She was a <em> very </em> skittish female, after all. She’d been bold a few times while I’d been trapped in the <em> kaīrtis vīsh, </em>but even those moments had been fleeting. If I kept this up I might scare her to death. </p><p>The thought twisted unpleasantly in my gut. </p><p>Distracted by the texture of her hair, I slipped both hands into the mass of it. It was tangled, yes, far messier than it usually was, yet still surprisingly soft. Softer than mine, certainly. I’d never touched a <em> payashē’s </em> hair before, so I hardly had a way to compare, but I doubted even the females of my own kind would feel as delicate as this one. </p><p>“Why are you so soft?” I wondered aloud. It was fascinating and so very alluring. </p><p>She pulled away from me, pivoting. She attempted an angry visage but it was tinged by her pale-skinned fear, undermining the effect. </p><p>“Keep your hands off me!” she ordered. </p><p>Well. That sounded like a challenge, I thought. <em> “Na?” </em> I taunted. “But <em> payilas…” </em> I moved closer; she backed into the storage box behind her. <em> “Protect... </em> does not mean <em> obey,” </em> I crooned, delighting in her reaction. </p><p>She flattened herself as tightly to the box as she could, and I stood over her, reveling in this moment. It’d been hard to judge just how <em> small </em> she was before, when I’d been unable to stand on my own feet. This was my first time truly recognizing how tiny she was, how thin, how... <em> soft. </em> The top of her head didn’t even reach my chin. I could lean forward over her and still never touch her.</p><p>I slid my hands back into her hair, marveling at the feel. The strands were so silky and curled easily from the pressure of my fingers. It was ridiculous, I told myself, but she was seductive without ever doing anything, every part of her all but shouting to be felt. </p><p>I pressed just a little closer, enough to feel her form against mine, and for a brief moment, thought swept away. She felt...nice. Touching her was pleasure incarnate, wherever that touch happened to be. She was cooler than me, just a little, and the absolute softness of her beckoned without words. </p><p>It took a moment for me to recognize that she was allowing this despite her obvious discomfort. She’d surrendered. Then, in my mind, I heard her voice. </p><p><em> What a bully. </em> </p><p>The language spell supplied a comparison for that term, and it soured my mood a little. She thought I was <em> bullying </em> her? </p><p>I refocused. “Must I keep you from <em> all </em> hurt?” I asked her, shifting my thoughts back to our contract. “Or only keep you alive?” </p><p>Her stunned silence offered no clarification. </p><p>I smirked. “You did not explain your promise, either,” I pointed out. She owed me for my <em> protection. </em> </p><p>Her mind cast back. I could see it in her eyes, how she was struggling to recall the past night. “You don’t get my soul,” she determined. “I didn’t agree to that.” </p><p>No, she hadn’t, I thought, my good mood plummeting. I’d demanded it but she hadn’t agreed. As I watched her now, that struggle of hers continued, her memories failing her. </p><p>Then, recognition lighting her eyes, she yelped, <em> “Cookies? </em> That-- <em> that’s </em> what you agreed to?” </p><p>Cold fury burned in me. It was a terrible agreement. I’d sacrificed much for this <em> payilas. </em> </p><p>“Why on Earth would you <em> agree </em> to that?” she blurted, her shock providing her with a surprising amount of courage. </p><p>I bared my teeth at her. Well, no, not precisely <em> at </em> her, but she was the target of my quiet wrath nonetheless. I might not ever get back to Ahlēavah now -- my lineage ending here, in this world. I may not be a puppet, as the summoners had tried to make me, but that one caveat wasn’t enough to mollify me. </p><p>My life would end here, one way or another. </p><p>I considered trying to wring the promise out of her now, but noise from below caught my attention. The voices had never ceased, but now they’d risen in pitch and urgency. My gaze drew towards her chamber door, and I eased back, ready to kill anyone who dared come through that threshold. </p><p>Robin snatched my wrists before I could withdraw, snapping my attention back to her. </p><p>“You promised to protect me,” she whispered quickly, “so you need to know this: if anyone -- I mean <em> anyone </em> -- discovers we have a contract, I’ll be put to death.” </p><p>A new flame of anger ignited in my chest. </p><p>“Do you understand?” she prompted. “The MPD -- the organization that rules over mythics -- will kill me. They’ll kill you too. We’ll both be executed. You can’t protect me from them. No demon is that strong.” </p><p>Truth, every word. Whatever this organization was, I understood that it was a team, not unlike a demon House. No single demon was likely to win against an entire House, whatever their rank…</p><p>And I was rank 3, House 12. In terms of strength, I was the weakest possible in a one-on-one fight. </p><p>In the end, I had to accept that I could only protect her from so much. A human, two humans, several -- yes. Maybe ten or twenty. Maybe more. But an entire House of them? </p><p>Impossible. </p><p>“The only way to protect us both is to stay hidden,” she was saying, urgent. “You can’t let anyone see you or hear you or -- or <em> anything. </em> We can’t let them find the infernus. We can’t draw attention to ourselves or we’re dead!” </p><p>Somewhere in her speech, I began to understand that her world was built on a series of rigid rules. She had to obey these rules or the repercussions would be dire, so by extent, I needed to obey them, too. </p><p>I rankled at the very concept. </p><p>Then, at the end, a quiet alarm crawled through me. At her mention of <em> attention, </em> I suddenly recalled the demon I’d left alone with objects capable of disrupting the <em> vīsh </em>that held him. How long had that been, now? How much of his power had he recovered? </p><p>“Attention?” I echoed, contemplating whether or not a demon’s <em> attention </em> counted. </p><p>“That means we can’t--” she started. </p><p>“I know what it means,” I interrupted her. I pushed against her, muted urgency slithering through me. Helping Tahēsh escape -- would that be enough “attention” to be drawn back to me? Was it enough to be drawn back to <em> her? </em> </p><p>“No attention. That is a problem,” I admitted. </p><p>Alarm flashed over her features. “What? Why? Has anyone seen you?” </p><p>Yes and no. “Not a <em> hh’ainun,” </em> I assured her, then moved back. Noise was coming from nearby, the sound of ground tearing from below. Tahēsh -- he couldn’t fit through the small stairwell. He would have had to dig his way out, I realized now. </p><p>How much power did he still have? </p><p>“We should leave this place,” I told her. </p><p>“You did something!” she accused, aghast. “What did you do?” </p><p><em> No time for explanations, payilas! </em> I could feel Tahēsh’s magic gathering! I made to answer, to yell at her to <em> move, </em> and then Tahēsh’s magic burst. </p><p>The house shook from the force of it, and new terror filled me. I was at full strength after a full day in the light -- but that <em> vīsh…  </em></p><p>That <em> vīsh </em>was strong enough to have torn me apart. </p><p> </p><p>--</p><p> </p><p>Another feminine voice shrieked, “What the Hell!” </p><p>Robin grabbed me. “Zylas! What did you do?” she demanded, panicked. </p><p><em> I released the most powerful demon alive from his prison. </em> </p><p>“We should leave now,” I declared, yanking my arm from her grip. </p><p>She disagreed. “Not until you tell me--” </p><p>What part of the <em> house </em> vibrating did she not understand?! </p><p>Feet thundered our direction. My head snapped towards it. <em> You can’t let anyone see you, </em> she’d warned. If anyone entered that door--</p><p>Robin snatched up the infernus, holding it up. “Get back in this thing!” she ordered. </p><p>There were <em> numerous </em> reasons why that was a bad idea -- not to mention the fact that I didn’t want to go back yet <em> and </em> I disdained being ordered! </p><p>“Hurry!” she urged. “Before she sees you!” </p><p>Hate burned in my chest, but I had little choice. She was more likely to survive what was coming if Tahēsh <em> didn’t </em> know we were bound. </p><p>
  <em> Kish lēvh.  </em>
</p><p>My form melted into liquid light, pulled to the <em> imailatē. </em> </p><p>So many sounds, feelings, words, and movement, then. It was hard to know what was happening, even with Robin’s thoughts as a guide. I felt her panicking, rushing. I felt her fear. No -- not <em> fear. </em> Terror. She was terrified. In the background, I could just hear more shattering explosions, but none were loud enough to suggest my <em> payilas </em> was in danger. </p><p>The one thing I heard clearly? </p><p><em> The other demon is loose! </em> </p><p>Tahēsh would’ve begun demolishing the house by now. The summoner was there -- Jack -- somewhere. Would he protect his house, his kin? Could I expect him to face Tahēsh? Would it be enough for Robin to escape? </p><p>Seconds passed, then minutes, and she did not call for me. Her thoughts swirled and blurred but her emotions settled. And, after a time, I recognized that she wasn’t alone; someone else was with her. <em> Amalia, </em> she said, every so often. </p><p>They argued. I couldn’t hear Amalia well, but Robin’s voice -- sharp with fury -- went on a tangent. I didn’t understand all that she said, but I understood enough to feel respect. At some point during her panicked escape, she’d found her spine. </p><p>I felt an urge to test it. </p><p>Time continued to slither by. Her thoughts jumbled about, slowing with time until I could follow them more easily, but most of her mind was silent. I only caught glimpses. </p><p>It was boring. I was starting to fall asleep -- an oddity, given I was in the infernus. Demons didn’t sleep in the Ahlēvīsh, but this <em> imailatē </em> was clearly different in that aspect. </p><p>When would she call me again? I wanted out. This was ridiculous. The boredom grated on me. The only thing of note to happen in the endless hours that passed was when her fear started to return in waves. What was going on, now? She wasn’t speaking and her mind was surprisingly quiet. </p><p>Curious, I tried to listen, but all I could make out was the sound of footfalls. Voices were nearby, though, so I held back despite my rising sense of alarm. </p><p><em> You can’t let anyone see you. </em> </p><p>Robin’s voice echoed in my mind, a warning. I had to wait until she called. </p><p><em> “No!” </em> </p><p>That sounded like a call. </p><p>I leapt from the infernus, feeling for the scenery in the split second needed to determine where I could stand. Two large buildings on either side, dark here, Robin against a wall, another female I vaguely recognized nearby, and-- </p><p>Four male <em> hh’ainun. </em> One of them had my <em> payilas </em> by the shirt, pinning her as he leered closer. </p><p>I forced myself between them, knocking him back as I reformed. I could feel her against me -- safe, now. </p><p>The man looked baffled, sputtering, “What the--” </p><p><em> Enemy. </em> </p><p>My hand shot out, catching him by the neck, and with hardly an effort, I sent him flying. He crashed into the wall across from me, collapsing, breathless and dazed. </p><p>The other three backed off. One, confused, blurted, “Who the Hell is that guy? Where’d he come from?” </p><p><em> Another world, one of terror incarnate, </em> I thought, laughing at the male. He had no idea what I was going to do to him. </p><p>My claws ached to imbed themselves in more soft, delicate <em> hh’ainun </em> flesh. </p><p>The males scrambled away, terrified. The hunt begins, then. Excitement filled me and I readied for the chase, wondering how long a lead I should give them to make this fun. </p><p>An impact. I didn’t pay attention at first -- until I felt my <em> payilas </em> gripping me around my stomach, her hold pitifully weak even as it was likely the best she could do. I gave her a look, confused. </p><p><em> You can’t let anyone see you, </em> she’d said. That meant I should kill anyone who sees me -- <em> na? </em> </p><p>“Stop!” she pleaded, breathless. “No one can see you, remember?” </p><p>Ah. If I chase those <em> hh’ainun </em> into crowded areas I might be seen by more. Smart <em> payilas. </em> </p><p>“Then I will make sure I am not seen,” I assure her, smiling at the prospect. A stealth-hunt it was, then. “A challenge, <em> na? </em> Will be fun,” I declared, certain. </p><p>“No! Just stay here,” she says, haggard. “You can’t protect me if you’re chasing them.” Finally, she lets go, withdrawing. </p><p>But the males had already seen me -- I needed to kill them, did I not? And there was also the other, the female. Amalia. I glanced at her, the blonde, flattened against a wall, and back to Robin. </p><p><em> “She </em> has seen me. I can kill her,” I said, half in question, half in declaration. My <em> payilas </em> had an odd mind, her logic flawed. I had to figure it out, elsewise I might end up putting her in danger. </p><p>Her attention whipped to the other female -- the blonde edged away -- and she stammered, “Uh… I--I can explain--” </p><p>The other murmured, “You’re a contractor? You said you didn’t know anything about Demonica…” </p><p>Why were they talking? The solution to this was so simple. Checking with Robin, I said, “I should kill her, yes?” </p><p>“No!” she denied immediately. </p><p>Frustration welled. Why not?! </p><p>“The demon is talking,” Amalia said breathlessly. She dropped in place, stunned. “Contracted demons can’t speak. They give up their voices when they give up their autonomy.” </p><p><em> She knows. </em> She knows -- which means she’s a threat. Threats are to be eliminated. <em> Protect. </em> </p><p>My claws unsheathed, but before I could launch for her throat, Robin leapt on my arm, clinging. I understood; she didn’t want me to do this thing. But the contract was clear in this, at least. I will uphold my end of the bargain. </p><p>“Zylas, you can’t kill her!” Robin says, half an order, half a plea. </p><p>“It will be easy,” I assure her. </p><p><em> You can look away, if it distresses you. </em> </p><p><em> I will do the rest. </em> </p><p>“I mean you <em> shouldn’t </em> kill her!” she argues. “She’s--she’s my cousin. My family.” </p><p>I knew this already. They were kin. It didn’t change what I had to do. </p><p>And then she said, “I need her help to survive this.” </p><p>I paused, my mind puzzling on that concept. Then...I can be seen by those who can also protect her? A loophole, I concluded. If a person was not a threat to her, but an ally, then whether or not I was seen was irrelevant. </p><p>I relaxed, but I wasn’t <em> pleased </em> by it. Again and again, my <em> payilas </em> was taking away all my fun. </p><p>Amalia’s face was still stunned. “You said you weren’t a summoner and I believed you. I believed you!” she snapped, accusatory. She got to her feet and Robin tried to speak, but Amalia spoke over her, “You <em> did </em> come to steal Dad’s demon names, didn’t you? You wanted the glory of a new lineage for--” </p><p>My mind reeled with this information, and memories began aligning. Robin had mentioned my lineage name before, too. It must have something to do with the summoning as a whole; House names were vital. And, it seemed, viciously protected by the <em> hh’ainun </em> summoners. </p><p>Then, eyes widening in shock, Amalia yelled, “No way!” She pointed at me. “That’s Dad’s demon, isn’t it? That’s the hidden one from the library!” </p><p>Anger coiled inside me. I was <em> no one’s </em> demon! </p><p>“Wait, Amalia!” Robin begged. “You don’t understand--” </p><p>“How did you even -- no, I don’t want to know,” Amalia cut herself off. She moved away, sneering, “Your ‘sweet, naive girl’ act is good, Robin, but you should’ve put more effort into your summoning apprenticeship instead. That demon is going to kill you.” </p><p>I scowled. Amalia’s words were not lies -- but they were wrong. All of them. I knew this; how did Robin’s own kin not know? </p><p>“Amalia--” Robin tried one more time. </p><p>“Forget it, Robin,” Amalia said, refusing again to hear reason. “I’m done. I never should’ve believed you.” </p><p>My tail twitched in mounting anger and uncertainty. Was Amalia still needed, now? After refusing to be of aid? Should I kill her now? </p><p>She tried to step past me, but her own fear halted her. With feigned confidence, she turned and headed further into the shadowed area between the buildings. </p><p>Surely this rejection fell under the protection clause, yes? </p><p>I glanced down at Robin, pulling away from her grip. <em> “Now </em> should I kill her?” I checked. Was this the point when death was required to protect her? </p><p>Shaking and dazed, she denied, “No. Don’t -- don’t touch her. She’s -- she’s -- she’s my--” </p><p>A growl rumbled in my throat, frustration seizing me, but I don’t think she heard. She starts to pant, then holds herself, and I feel her mind reeling. She was overwhelmed, the fear on her becoming suffocating. In moments she drops to a crouch, tears dripping -- again. She’d done that when I’d pulled her into the circle, too; it meant <em> terror. </em> </p><p>I stepped beside her, then dropped to her level. “What are you doing?” I demand. </p><p>She shakes her head, either incapable of answering or refusing to. Angry, I poke at her, trying to shake her out of it, but she didn’t. Her pants and tears and sobs only grew louder. </p><p>It was distressing. Was this part of “protect”? How was I supposed to protect her from <em> this? </em> </p><p><em> “Payilas. </em> Stop it,” I ordered her roughly. </p><p>She presses her face into her knees, becoming an even smaller ball. </p><p>Why? <em> Why?! </em> On the verge of panicking, myself, I yank on her garments, forcing her to sit upright; she tips, her balance broken, then curls up even tighter than before. </p><p>“What are you doing?” I repeat, teeth bared. “Stop it!” I don’t know how to handle this! I don’t know what to do! </p><p>Finally, she responds, gasping, “I--I can’t! Leave me alone!” </p><p>With a savage hiss, I shoot to my feet and stride away. When I glance back to check on her, she’s looking at me, lost and helpless. I can only think of one way to stop this now. </p><p>The crying had started when Amalia had left, so Amalia will make the crying cease. </p><p>I track her. It isn’t difficult. Just like Robin, the female had no concept of masking her presence or walking quietly. If anything, her walk was twice as loud as Robin’s, and my only problem in tracking her was in keeping out of sight. She hadn’t gotten far, but she’s smart enough to stay in the glare of the overhead false lighting. </p><p>I watch her, darting from cover to cover and shadow to shadow, summoning my own shadows when needed. It takes some time, and every second I remain away from my <em> payilas </em> is another tick of hatred for the <em> cousin. </em> She was forcing me to leave Robin unprotected; she would hurt for this. I would be careful not to break her, but she would <em> hurt. </em> </p><p>Finally, I had my chance. I anticipated her route, hid in another of the dark roads, and waited. When Amalia passed by, I snatched her, dragging her by her waist with a hand clamped over her mouth. </p><p>She shrieked and kicked against my hold, and her struggles only doubled when she recognized it was me holding her. Ignoring her protests -- and hardly fazed by them, for that matter -- I followed a simpler path back to Robin. These roads were easy to follow, their shapes angled in perfect squares and rectangles; it hardly took thought to organize them. </p><p>Eventually I shifted Amalia in my grip so she hung by her waist, hissing at her, “If you scream, I will tear out your tongue.” She didn’t need a tongue to be Robin’s ally. </p><p>She did not scream. </p><p>The way back was much quicker and soon my <em> payilas </em> noticed, looking up. Disbelief flooded her expression, halting her tears (finally!) and I half-threw Amalia onto the ground before her. Then the foolish blonde tried to rise, so I stepped on her back, forcing her back down. Her cry of agony was the most satisfying thing I’d heard in the last several hours. </p><p>I made sure nothing broke, but beyond that I didn’t care how injured she became. </p><p>I slanted a look at Robin -- <em> You see what I do for you, payilas? </em> -- and reached down to grip Amalia by her hair. As I pulled, forcing her to look up at me, a part of me noted that her hair, too, was impossibly soft. Yet, somehow, I knew at once I preferred the feel of Robin’s. </p><p>I shelved the thought. </p><p>“Listening, <em> hh’ainun?” </em> I said, my frustration audible. “The <em> payilas </em> wants your help, so you will help her. If you don’t, I will take you apart piece by piece by little piece. Sounds like fun, <em> na? </em> Or would you rather help her?” </p><p>I wasn’t bluffing. Amalia had earned a great deal of my ire over the last few minutes. I would relish her screams of terror and agony. A part of me even hoped she’d refuse, though I admitted it’d be a pain to have to find a quiet place for my gory retribution. Her death would draw a lot of <em> attention. </em> </p><p>Amalia didn’t answer, her fear rendering her mute. </p><p>That was unacceptable. I gave her hair a stronger pull, a distinct warning. “Answer or I will decide for you,” I hissed. </p><p>Robin finally reacted. “Zylas!” she keened, saying my name wrong <em> again. </em> “Let her go!” </p><p><em> No. </em> Amalia will agree, or she will die. No other options remained. </p><p>The female in question gave a terrified whimper, then managed to whisper, “I’ll help. I’ll do whatever you want.” </p><p>Good. “Smart <em> hh’ainun,” </em> I cooed, releasing my hold. I stepped off of her, waiting, irritated. Why had she made it so difficult? She should’ve just realized her situation earlier and never left. Robin had given her such an easy role: be an ally. </p><p>Amalia was the fool who’d rejected it. </p><p>Stuttering, my <em> payilas </em> found her voice again to say, “I -- I didn’t tell him to do that. I didn’t, I swear.” </p><p>Of course she didn’t. I was becoming increasingly aware that Robin didn’t know what was good for her. She took no actions to preserve her own life, even when the actions in question were both obvious and simple. It was no wonder she’d contracted me to <em> protect </em> her -- she had no idea how to do it, herself! She needed someone else to take care of her. </p><p><em> Kasht. </em> </p><p>I watched the females as they recovered, Amalia managing it quicker than Robin did. “I dropped my backpack,” she said, controlling her voice. “I need to go get it, then we should find a hotel.” </p><p>I felt a flicker of respect for the blonde. Terrified and in pain, yet she focused on the <em> correct </em> means of survival. </p><p>My eyes slid to Robin, unable to withhold a scathing look. <em> Learn, payilas, </em> I warned her, my tail giving sharp sweeps in anger. <em> Learn from her or me, but learn.  </em></p><p><em> Or die. </em> </p><p> </p><p>--</p><p> </p><p>The females were talking. I was halfway listening, my focus on the metal-and-glass box making pictures and sounds in rapid sequence. Robin had explained it as a television set, or <em> tee-vee, </em> and turned it on with the request that I leave it to play. </p><p><em> Play </em> meaning to display the images and sounds uninterrupted. She claimed to need the sound to help hide the discussion she and Amalia were having, explaining how our contract had come to be. </p><p>For a while, I had no problem leaving the tee-vee alone. I looked at it from all sides, focusing on the sounds it made, both the English language coming from it and the sound of whirring and buzzing within it. It wasn’t magic, she said, but that only made it more puzzling. From where did the pictures come, and the sound? Nothing I could see answered those questions. My tail whapped at the floor and the storage box I was crouched upon, but I hardly noticed. </p><p>The images hurt to view. They blinked black between each one, and I wondered how the females could stand it. I could only guess that their sight wasn’t as sharp as mine; they probably saw a smooth transition. </p><p>Soon enough my attention drew to the back of the device. Looking was enough to understand that some of the metal bars served no purpose in keeping the tee-vee running, so I yanked it from the post. Sure enough, the sound continued. But what was the rope in the back? Was that important, or was it designed to help hold it in place? </p><p>I ripped out the rope and the sound ceased, the warmth of the metal box slowly fading. <em> Hnn. </em> It was important, then; the rope powered the entire thing. </p><p>Well, I thought, now that I’d already broken it, I may as well study it further. With a wrench, I started taking it apart, fascinated by each piece I removed from it. It was surprisingly empty for such a big thing, most of the pieces in sharp, thin rectangles and full of smaller ropes. Were <em> all </em> of these required to make this not-magic box work? </p><p>That certainly explained how it could work at all, I admitted. It seemed more complicated than even the most complicated <em> vīsh, </em> and for its effect, that was sensible. </p><p>Every so often I could hear my <em> payilas </em> thinking and feeling. I paid attention to those moments, recognizing her uncertainty, acceptance, confusion, hesitation -- and, of course, fear. So much fear, all the time. I wondered if the time she had touched my hand through the <em> vīsh </em>had been the only moment in her entire life when she’d felt no fear. </p><p>No, I corrected myself. She felt no fear while reading her books, too. I glanced up at her; she wasn’t looking, her attention on her kin. I returned to the picture-box. There were so many more pieces in it, and none with any sort of printed explanations for their purpose. </p><p>Which one made the pictures work? Which one made the sound? Or did they all work together to do so? </p><p>Amalia left. Her fear trailed after her, the scent even more sour than Robin’s. I was glad she was gone. </p><p>“Having fun?” Robin asked me. </p><p>I turned my attention to her. She was laying back on the bed, her legs dangling -- the same as before, I mused. She must like that pose. Leaving the tee-vee on the storage box, I stepped off and came over to her, my mind replaying the last few lines of the females’ conversation. </p><p>“You have a plan?” I checked. </p><p>She said, “I think so.” </p><p>She sounded uncertain. </p><p>“Join a guild?” I prompted. “Blend in?” </p><p>Surprised, she asked, “You were listening?” </p><p><em> What else is there to do but listen? </em> </p><p>In the circle, in the infernus, in this room -- my life had become a series of inactive moments in which all I could do was <em> listen. </em> </p><p>Grabbing her by her shirt, I pulled her up to a sit, displeasure surging in me. I didn’t like this plan, for numerous reasons -- not the least of which was that it would require me to fake being contracted. </p><p>She gave a gasp, startled, as I brought her close, almost bumping our noses. </p><p>“You expect me to <em> behave?” </em> I challenged, using Amalia’s words. “I must be obedient? What is the difference between surrendering my will and pretending to?” I had a much better plan: take her some place isolated, where no <em> hh’ainun </em> would find her. She may hate it, but I could protect her there without having to deal with all this nonsense. </p><p>She flinched at my pointed question. “I have to, Zylas,” she reasoned. “It’s the only way to--” </p><p>“What if I refuse to behave, <em> payilas?” </em> I interrupted. </p><p>Her eyes widened, fresh fear billowing off her. “You -- you have to protect me!” </p><p><em> “I </em> decide how,” I pointed out. Involuntarily, my ire caused my claws to unfurl, and her shirt tore under their pressure. “I did not give you my will,” I growled. </p><p>She looked as scared as she smelled. Then, a spark of intelligence in her eyes, she asked, “Zylas...what do you want?” </p><p><em> “Ih?” </em> I wasn’t expecting that question; it stuttered my rising fury to a low simmer. </p><p>“Back in the circle...you asked me what I wanted,” she explained, “and I said protection. But what do <em> you </em> want? I know it isn’t cookies.” </p><p>She hadn’t figured that one out, yet? “I wanted your soul, <em> payilas, </em> but you would not give it to me,” I answered, aggravated. I hated that reminder. </p><p>She exhaled, understanding. “You want to go home,” she concluded. </p><p>An ache burned in me. Yes, I wanted to go home! I was brought here against my will to begin with, and now -- without her soul -- I could never go back. I was just another <em> Ivaknen </em> who would never return. </p><p>Then she said, “I’ll find a way for you to return home.” </p><p>My attention riveted to her, forgetting all about my frustrations and lamentations. Had she just said that? I doubted my ears. Our contract was sealed; she needed to do nothing else, and neither did I. Moreover, I expected nothing else. </p><p>She continued, undeterred, “There has to be a way for demons to get in and out of this world. If there wasn’t,” she reasoned, “how would the first human have learned how to summon demons?” </p><p>A fair argument. She was clever, indeed -- when she wasn’t stumbling over herself in terror. </p><p>“You think you can discover this?” I ask. Not doubtful -- curious. Afraid to hope. I knew she was good with knowledge. </p><p>“I can’t promise I’ll succeed,” she said, nervous, “but I promise to try. It’ll take time -- a long time, maybe years.” </p><p>“Years,” I echoed with a dry laugh. “What do you know about those, <em> payilas </em> of twenty years?” She’d only had twenty of them, after all. </p><p>“What do <em> you </em>know?” she threw back sharply. “You can’t even tell me how old you are.” </p><p><em> Var </em> -- because demons didn’t care. </p><p>I leaned in closer, reading her eyes, digging for her thoughts. She gave me none, maybe unaware that I could, and fell backwards to avoid my proximity. Placing a hand by her head for balance, I drew her attention to the infernus, giving it a telling tap. </p><p>“Our contract is sealed,” I pointed out. There was no way to add more vows to it. “But you will promise to find this -- a way I can return home?” I demanded. </p><p>Though she was still visibly scared of me, her reply was steady, firm -- certain. </p><p>“I promise to try my best.” </p><p>Truth, I determined. I didn’t know what her <em> best </em> was, but I knew one thing: no other <em> hh’ainun </em> would give me even this much. Robin was...special. </p><p>At length, I grudgingly said, “Then I will try to...<em> behave... </em> so the <em> hh’ainun zh’ūltis </em> will think I am obedient.” </p><p>That hadn’t been easy to say. And, I noticed, she didn’t ask what my Demonic words meant. She was catching on, then? Slowly, yes, but catching on nonetheless. </p><p>I knew she was <em> ahktallis. </em> </p><p>She confirmed, “Deal. Now would you get off me?” </p><p>“Why?” I demanded. “I am not hurting you.” I wasn’t even touching her -- though, as that thought entered my mind, suddenly I couldn’t resist doing so. My hand brushed across her cheek, fingers digging into her hair. </p><p><em> Kasht </em> -- why was she so <em> soft? </em> She felt good to the touch, pleasant tingles coating my skin wherever her warmth could reach me. </p><p>She grabbed my wrist -- more of that pleasant softness -- and then she <em> reacted. </em> She sat upright, the move making me recoil so we didn’t collide. I withdrew my hand but then <em> she </em> reached for it, her sudden interest evaporating her former fear. Her hands traveled up my arm to my shoulder, then dropped to my stomach. </p><p>I stared at her, bewildered. What was this? I didn’t mind, given how good her softness felt against me, but I was still baffled. </p><p>“You’re warm!” she declared, surprised. “Even warmer than me! Your skin was so cold before. Are you sick?” she checked, concerned. “Do you have a fever?” </p><p>Did I -- what? “I do not know those words.” </p><p>“Are you ill? Unwell?” she prompted. </p><p>I still didn’t know those words. But if her interest kept her hands where they were, she was welcome to keep spouting them. </p><p>“Are you supposed to be this warm?” she finally asked. </p><p>Ah. Understanding reached me. She must not have noticed my warmth before. I’d noticed hers, but then, I’d already known I was more aware than she was. </p><p>“Yes,” I told her. “I recovered <em> vīsh </em>in the light. Outside.” </p><p>“You...you powered up your magic in the sunlight?” she worked out. Her mind clicked behind her eyes. “That’s what you were doing after healing me...before you set that other demon loose.” Then, disapproving, she demanded, “Why did you do that, by the way?” </p><p>I shrugged. It was hardly worth explaining. Besides which, I didn’t trust her -- not yet. If I told her I’d been looking for another way home, and within minutes of entering into our contract...she might betray me. </p><p>That was partly my own fault, I reminded myself. I’d broken her trust of me on purpose. I’d wanted her to hate me. <em> You have what you wanted now, </em> I thought, disquieted. <em> How does it feel? </em> </p><p>I had no answer to that. </p><p>Suddenly recalling that she was sitting with her hands pressed against me, she recoiled, and her face darkened to red. That had happened before, I remembered. It was fascinating, distracting me from my thoughts. </p><p>I crouched down to see her face more clearly. “What is wrong with your head?” I demanded. “Your skin is changing color.” </p><p>“It’s nothing!” she snapped; a lie. The red burned brighter. “I’m fine.” </p><p>Another lie. </p><p><em> “Na?” </em> I checked, dubious. “But why--” </p><p>“It’s nothing!” she repeated -- still lying. She flung herself away, half crawling across the bed -- as far away from <em> me </em> as she could get. Her back to me, she declared, “I’m tired. I need to sleep.” </p><p>I stared at her. She was hiding something. It wasn’t entirely unexpected, of course. She was <em> hh’ainun. </em> I was a demon. We’d known each other for a very short amount of time. She feared me above all else, even as our contract bound me to protect her. She would be foolish, indeed, if she <em> didn’t </em> keep secrets from me. </p><p>It didn’t stop me from feeling furious. </p><p>She clicked off the false light, hiding her details behind the shape of her heat. I could see her struggling to relax, faking the need for rest. </p><p><em> “Payilas dilēran,” </em> I hissed. She was lucky to be so soft and have such a pleasant scent. She was lucky I preferred her alive. </p><p>I was unlucky for being bound to her. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Book 1, Chapter 18-20</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was time. I was prepared. </p><p>Amalia had explained, coaching me on the proper ways to <em> behave </em> to fool the <em> hh’ainun </em> guild. Though she’d stunk of fear, she’d directed me with surprising strength. By her lesson, I now knew how to move, how to walk, how to stand -- like one of the <em> enslaved. </em> </p><p>It grated, but I’d agreed. This was our promise, mine and my <em> payilas’s. </em> A part of me worried that <em> her </em> promise would falter, that she would go back on her word, but...I didn’t think she would. She’d proven herself as honest, as honorable, as any demon. If she said she would try, she would try. </p><p>I tried to trust that, and I displayed as much by holding to <em> my </em> end of the bargain. </p><p>It took a long time for her to call me. So much happened in that time, so many of her thoughts whispering through the infernus. It was an odd thing, I noticed; after that talk, her thoughts had grown more frequent. What had changed? <em> Had </em> anything changed? Perhaps she’d just been unable to think clearly until now. Perhaps her frantic emotions had stunted her thoughts and now they were clear again. </p><p><em> Imadnul. </em> </p><p>New voices drifted through the emptiness in which I existed. Males. Deep, mocking, doubting. A burn lodged in my chest. I didn’t like the sound of them; they sounded dishonorable, dangerous, deadly. They sounded like <em> liars. </em> </p><p>Something happened. Robin’s motions...was she holding the infernus? She was starting to panic, but her mind was silent. Was there danger? What was happening? </p><p>
  <em> Zylas, get out here! </em>
</p><p><em> Relief. </em> Finally! </p><p>I stepped out, finding a spot by her side. We were in an enclosed room -- full of male <em> hh’ainun. </em> The act, then; it was time to show these <em> guild hh’ainun </em> that she was worthy to join, that she had a <em> contracted </em> demon. </p><p>I stood still, face relaxed, looking at nothing. It wasn’t difficult; this was no different from an extended hunt. I’d spent days on a hunt before, unmoving, waiting for my chance to strike. Standing upright and still took no effort. </p><p>Approval seeped from Robin to me. Relief, too -- and more. Pride? She was <em> proud? </em> </p><p>Strange <em> payilas. </em> This was easy. </p><p>The <em> hh’ainun </em> stared in silence for a time, then roared with laughter. Irritation flickered through me, but I held; it wasn’t nothing I hadn’t heard before. This sequence was familiar. First they laughed, then I killed, then they cowered. </p><p>I waited. </p><p><em> “That’s </em> your demon?” someone called, gasping with humor. “That little thing?” </p><p><em> Yes, that little thing, </em> I thought, my own amusement rising. They will fear <em> that little thing </em> soon. </p><p>Another chuckled, “Is it even fully grown? Did the summoner catch an adolescent by mistake?” </p><p><em> Zh'ūltis. </em> Didn’t they know anything? Young could not be summoned. This guild was <em> zh'ūltis. </em> Robin would do better to join another. </p><p>Their taunts and mocks continued, but all their words did was increase my own enjoyment. They would learn. I hadn’t survived by being the biggest and strongest -- I’d survived by being the fastest and smartest. And I was unbound -- free to act with my own will, my own knowledge, my own <em> skill. </em> No other demon in this world had my advantage. They would fear me soon. </p><p>Robin wasn’t amused. She grew <em> angry </em> at their taunts, and she snapped, “He’s not weak!” </p><p>No, I wasn’t, but I preferred others to think so. It made my strikes from the dark all the more satisfying. Still, a phantom kind of warmth filled me at her defense. I betrayed nothing, not even allowing my tail to twitch, but a sense of appreciation reached me. </p><p>Maybe she didn’t fear me as much as I thought she did? </p><p>The room fell quiet at her firm shout, surprise flitting through them. Had they not expected her outburst? Fitting; I hadn’t expected it, either. </p><p>A flicker of respect came to life. Maybe she wasn’t hopeless after all. </p><p>The closest male looked down at her, taller than I was. “You think your baby demon can compete in our guild, little girl?” he taunted, dismissive. </p><p>Anger coiled in me. <em> No one </em> called her little except me. She was <em> my payilas. </em> </p><p><em> “This </em> is a real demon,” he declared. </p><p>He summoned his own, a “properly contracted” demon. I gazed impassively forward, identifying the male before me. For the first time, it takes effort not to react -- not to <em> laugh. </em> </p><p>I had killed many of these males. They were slow, clumsy. Very strong, yes, crushingly so, but slow. Controlled by a <em> hh’ainun, </em> he would be even slower. He was only as much of a threat as a human, now. </p><p>Robin stared, fear and uncertainty reaching me through our bond. <em> Nailēris </em> -- of <em> this? </em> Of <em> that? </em> </p><p>Disbelief filled me. Had she no faith? </p><p>“Aw, look,” a male cooed, “you scared her. Take your pet demon and go home, girl,” he told her. </p><p>I pondered the ways I could rip his face off. <em> No one </em> spoke my <em> payilas </em> like that except me. </p><p>“A demon like that wouldn’t put us on the radar,” the closest male spoke to another. “It’d make us a laughingstock. I’m sorry for bringing them up here.” </p><p>They were ignoring us, now? <em> Zh'ūltis. </em> Taking their eyes off the hunter? That would get them killed. </p><p>I wanted to be the hunter that did it. </p><p>At once, Robin’s anger flared back up again, burning brighter. “My demon isn’t weak!” she said again, firm. </p><p>Ah. I understood, now. She knew I could handle <em> that </em> demon just fine, she was just afraid for herself. And her steadfast defense was a little pleasure in itself; it was about time <em> someone </em> recognized how lethal I was. </p><p>The demon’s controller laughed at her. “Should I demonstrate for you?” he offered. </p><p><em> No, </em> I thought. We <em> will demonstrate for </em>you. </p><p>His slave moved. </p><p><em> Zylas! </em> my <em> payilas </em> called, her fear spiking. </p><p><em> Finally. </em> </p><p>Taking that as permission to take control of the situation, I ducked the hand coming for me, then launched over it, rolling forward to avoid the low ceiling. The demon wasn’t my target: his controller was. I seized him by the neck, lifting him off the ground as he jolted, startled, and his demon froze as his concentration faltered. </p><p>“No!” one of the others nearby called, moving quick; from the corner of my eye, I saw him withdrawing some form of weapon. <em> “Ori imped--” </em> </p><p>I didn’t give him the chance to finish, striking with a swift, firm kick to his chest. There was a quiet <em> crack </em> under my foot as he flew back from the impact, his breath seizing, and I cautioned myself to be a <em> little </em> more careful. If I broke too many of the <em> hh’ainun, </em> they were unlikely to allow Robin into their guild. She would be unsafe. </p><p><em> Protect. </em> </p><p>The others reacted, scrambling in defense of their members. <em> Hnn. </em> So they protected one another? Good. Perhaps Amalia had chosen this place well, after all. </p><p>I threw the male I held aloft into several more of them, then dove into the melee. They were so slow, these <em> hh’ainun. </em> It was entirely too easy to keep track of them, my tail snapping and flicking as I wound through them, ducking blows and throwing my own. I heard and felt their motions clearly, and even if I didn’t, they telegraphed their attacks so obviously. I knew exactly which one to target, constantly. I zeroed in on the one most likely to succeed in an attack, one after the other, preventing them from managing even the most basic of defenses. </p><p>I didn’t draw blood. I was careful about that, using my fists, my elbows, my knees. I threw some, tripped others, knocked two together by their skulls; it was despairingly easy. At the end, when they’d all submitted, I jumped back over their mass of tangled, <em> bruised </em> limbs, returning to my spot by my <em> payilas. </em> </p><p>She was stunned, her jaw open. I wanted to snap it closed but was held by my promise; I couldn’t move without her direction until we were alone again. </p><p>Amalia, luckily, recognized what I did. She nudged Robin, whispering urgently, “Stop looking so shocked. You were controlling his attacks, <em> remember?” </em> </p><p>Robin shook herself, and though I couldn’t see it, I felt her forcing her face and body to relax. It was such a bizarre sensation, being able to feel <em> her </em> movements. I wondered if all my kind felt the same with their own contracts, battling a scowl at the idea. It must be torture. </p><p>Not that I cared overmuch. They murder my House by the dozen. They could all suffer until death. </p><p>The guild <em> hh’ainun </em> dragged themselves to their feet, their voices overlapping in curses and angry mutters. They winced and limped apart, but I could see their curious and suspicious interest. They were impressed, even as they nursed their wounds. </p><p>The one I’d kicked pulled himself up, approaching, as the others formed a circle around us. I wondered if I’d have to kill <em> all </em> of them before we left here. </p><p>Robin was intimidated, subtly shifting closer to me as they drew in. </p><p><em> Do not fear, payilas. </em> I would snap all of their necks before I allowed a single one to reach her. </p><p>I had already proven I could. </p><p>The male stopped in front of me, suspicion in his gaze. He looked into my eyes; I kept my face passive, looking through him. “You have a legal contract?” he asked Robin as he eyed me. “I’ve never seen a contracted demon move that fast.” </p><p>I’d bet he’d never seen <em> any </em> demon move as fast as I could. Only a Vh’alyir had the potential, and I was the eldest one alive, the most well-trained -- <em> and </em> the only demon with freedom in this world. I was the only one even remotely capable of such feats of speed. And on that thought, could anything in the <em> hh’ainun </em> world even come close to how quickly I could move? I wondered… </p><p>“Yes,” Robin lied immediately. Her <em> acting </em> could use some work. “It’s legal,” she confirmed. </p><p>Nodding, the male faked agreement, and I knew before he acted that he was going to test that. I made no reaction as he withdrew a bladed weapon. </p><p><em> Robin </em> reacted, gasping, “What are you--” </p><p><em> Do not move! </em> I silently ordered her. </p><p>The male swung the weapon at my face. It was a pitifully slow swing, giving me enough time to wonder if it would even hurt when it reached me. </p><p>Robin reached out, her reflexes faster than I’d known she could muster, her hand slamming into the male’s and clutching his fist to stop his swing. She didn’t manage it quick enough; a sting sprang to life, the metal sharp enough to slice into my cheek. <em> Imadnul; </em> it was nothing. </p><p>But my blood wasn’t the only blood I smelled. I recognized hers, as well. </p><p>I didn’t move, holding still, as vicious hatred pooled in me. Would it be alright to kill this <em> hh’ainun </em> later, when no others were around? I could tear his body to pieces, leave them for the animals. No one would know. </p><p>For a heartbeat, Robin didn’t react, as if unaware that she’d been injured, too. Then, quiet but with force, she bit out, “What are you doing?” </p><p><em> Danger. </em> I heard it in her tone: the resonance of a dark promise. She was <em> angry. </em> </p><p>I was <em> proud. </em> </p><p>The male drew back, satisfied. “I had to be sure it’s fully under your control,” he told her, relaxing. “Your handling of the demon is superb. How do you do it?” </p><p><em> By having absolutely no control. </em> </p><p>I wondered what they’d think of <em> that. </em> </p><p>Her mind faltered, her usual rapidfire, constant stream slowing. <em> Payilas zh'ūltis -- I am doing my part. Do yours!  </em></p><p>Amalia answered instead. “We aren’t about to reveal our family secrets to you plebeians,” she said curtly. I wondered what a <em> plebeian </em> was. </p><p>From the sound of the guild’s displeasure, it was insulting. </p><p>Thoughtful, the male spoke again, “Well...I’ll talk to the GM.” </p><p>GM. Guild Master, I recognized. Good. They were going to accept Robin into their House, and then we could begin searching for a way back to Ahlēavah. </p><p><em> I can’t promise I’ll succeed, but I promise to try. </em> </p><p>The first step had been taken. </p><p> </p><p>--</p><p> </p><p>I returned to the infernus after that. I couldn’t heal in here, but it barely mattered. Even the pain of the cut had faded; it would heal on its own at next <em> vayanin. </em> </p><p>Time passed. Robin was talking and moving a lot. Her thoughts were loud again, though I couldn’t make out many of her <em> words. </em> I was starting to understand that, I thought. Her words were most clear when she was angry or irritated, as if she wanted me to know them. Other times, when she was quiet and thoughtful, she hid them. </p><p>Doubt was reaching me, as well. Something wasn’t right with our contract. That wound she’d received, the wound on her thumb -- I’d seen it coming. I’d known she would be cut by the blade. I’d had enough time to react, if I’d chosen to. </p><p><em> Protect, </em>I mused to myself. She claimed it meant I couldn’t let anyone else harm her. Did that wound count as “harm”? Did it not? Our contract was vague, no specifics given, no certainties. I’d told her that I decided how I protected her, what it meant, but surely the contract should be compelling my actions anyway. </p><p><em> Enpedēra vīsh nā. </em><em>Magic bind me</em>. Its magic was tied to the infernus, tied to me, tied to her. I could feel that much. No demon could break it, could disobey it; even the most vague vow, made with this command, would compel. </p><p>So why had I been able to remain unmoving despite <em> knowing </em> she would be harmed? Did the end supersede the now? Knowing she would be safe <em> eventually </em> meant it was okay for her to be unsafe <em> now? </em> </p><p>It was puzzling. </p><p>She was talking again, arguing. Her voice was clear like this, and irritation welled in me as I followed her words. She was hunting Tahēsh with the rest of her guild. The <em> MPD </em> had ordered them to do so, and she had to follow their rules, so she did so. But this wasn’t simply obedience, I noted; she <em> wanted </em> to find Tahēsh. </p><p>Why? Suspicion burned in me. What was her goal? </p><p>Her words suggested she felt responsible for Tahēsh’s rampage, and that was one of the most <em> zh'ūltis </em> things she’d ever said. She’d had no hand in his summoning nor release. Moreover, all that he did was <em> his </em> choice, nothing more. None of it could rightly return to her. </p><p>Did she not understand this? That every demon and human were responsible for their <em> own </em> actions? </p><p><em> Payilas mailēshta. </em>She would get herself killed. </p><p>I perked up. <em> Alone, </em> she’d thought. </p><p>Good enough. I pushed free of the infernus, manifesting by her. As my awareness bloomed out around us, I took stock of the place; she was alone, indeed. Finally! No infernus, no <em> hh’ainun zh’ūltis </em> -- I could move and act and speak and <em> be. </em> </p><p>Water fell. I noticed it a second after my form solidified, and I frowned up at the sky. It was a storm, <em> na? </em> But so light...the rain was cold but not nearly as cold as I was used to, and much smaller and slower. Thinner. It didn’t rain here as it did in Ahlēavah, either? </p><p>Robin was not pleased. “What are you doing?” she bit out, shocked. “You can’t just pop out whenever you feel like it!” </p><p>Could I not? As we had already established, I did not have to <em> obey </em> her. </p><p>“Why not?” I challenged. </p><p>“Someone might see you!” she hinted sharply. </p><p>That, then? “I knew you were alone,” I assured her. </p><p>She hadn’t expected that, briefly startled. “How?” she demanded. </p><p>She knew so very little, I mused, taking the opportunity to stretch my back. I was feeling stiff after going so long without a good run, and the open air felt good on me. I never did like the Ahlēvīsh; the infernus was no better. </p><p>“You thought about it,” I answered her question belatedly. </p><p>Stunned, she replied, “You -- you can <em> hear my thoughts?” </em> </p><p>I gave her a look, her sharp voice irritating. “In the infernus, there is nothing,” I explained. “Quiet and dark. Boring. But I can hear you.” </p><p>Horror plastered her features, rolling off her scent in waves. “Don’t eavesdrop on my thoughts!” she snapped. “That’s -- that’s private!” </p><p><em> No idea, </em> I repeated to myself. <em> She has no idea about anything. </em> My gaze drew up to one of the false lights lining the roads, curious. Why was it so high, and why only give light to the ground? A hunter could sit above it and remain hidden despite the light. </p><p>Footsteps. Distant, but sudden and drawing closer. I twisted, striding between two buildings, heading out of sight. She followed, like I knew she would. She enjoyed arguing, I thought. </p><p>“Zylas--” she started. </p><p>This was dark enough, I determined. Facing her, I grabbed her wrist, lifting it. It still smelled of her blood, and she clutched a small cloth to her wounded thumb. </p><p>“Do you mind?” she demanded, her irritation causing her fear to fade. </p><p>I was learning how she worked, now. When she was angry or fascinated, she felt no fear. Thoughtful, I pulled the cloth out of her hand, idly wondering if <em> seeing </em> her wound would be enough to help me understand our contract. Was it based on sight? Would seeing it cause the contract to compel me? </p><p>I needed to test it to be sure. </p><p>Blood flowed from the cut, but I felt no compulsion. Just confusion -- both for the contract and the fact that her wound hadn’t sealed yet. </p><p>Bewildered and alarmed, I blurted, “You are <em> still </em> bleeding? How much are you hurt?” The wound didn’t <em> look </em> deep, but maybe the blade had cut through a vein? <em> Kasht, </em> her skin was so thin and soft -- it was little better than the garments she wore. Her skin barely counted as protection, itself! </p><p>She opened her palm, allowing me to look. </p><p>A memory resurfaced. As the blood dripped down to her wrist, the metallic scent beckoned. Her sweet scent, the promising taste of her skin...would it deliver? </p><p>Eager to find out, I brought her arm up and licked up the line of her blood, and she yelped, recoiling with a sharp yank. I allowed it, not bothering to maintain my hold. </p><p>“What are you <em> doing?” </em> she demanded, aghast and disgusted. </p><p>The taste was immediately proving...unsavory. Distracted, I ran the blood over my tongue, trying to find the elusive flavor I’d been promised. It failed to present itself, even after seconds of waiting. </p><p>“That’s disgusting,” she continued, revolted. “I can’t believe you--” </p><p>I spat her blood out of my mouth, equally revolted. <em> “Guh!” </em> I complained, spearing her with a confused, betrayed look. “Does all human blood taste like that?” </p><p>Her gaze pinched with disbelief. “Of course it does.” </p><p>It was <em> gross! </em> I stuck out my tongue, wishing there were food I could use to wash out the lingering tang. “Tastes like <em> metal,” </em> I almost whined. </p><p>She glowered at me, as if <em> she </em> were the wounded party. “Serves you right for licking me,” she retorted. </p><p>This was all wrong. <em> “Hh’ainun </em> blood is supposed to be the finest flavor,” I informed her grumpily. “A stupid rumor.” </p><p>It was just as offensive as the scent, really. I should’ve known better, I chided myself. <em> Taste </em> rarely differed from <em> scent, </em> after all. </p><p>Speaking of which, her blood was still flowing. Aggravated by the smell, I seized her hand again, deciding to heal it -- if only to staunch that disgusting scent. She flinched as I touched her, then gasped with pain as the <em> vīsh </em>did its work. Task done, I wiped away the lingering blood, checking to make sure it’d worked. </p><p>A small pink line followed the length of her fingertip, exactly where the cut had been. I frowned. </p><p>“That happened last time,” I noted, feeling the mark. It was raised just a little. “Your skin does not grow right,” I concluded. </p><p>She was surprised, confused, wondering. “You healed it,” she said, catching my eyes. “Why?” </p><p>It was not obvious? “Your blood smells as bad as it tastes,” I informed her bluntly. </p><p>Her expression blanked to annoyance. “Ugh,” she huffed, wrenching her hand back with more force than was necessary. “You’re awful,” she accused. </p><p>Amusement reached me and I retorted, “But I do not taste bad.” </p><p>Her disgust multiplied. “I <em> never </em> want to know what you taste like,” she ground out. </p><p><em> Na? </em> Not even a little? I was tempted to shove my fingers in her mouth, just because I knew she’d hate it. </p><p>“We’re out here because we need to stop the escaped demon,” she said then, and I mourned the change of subject. It was just getting fun. </p><p>To me, she asked, “Do you know how to find it?” </p><p><em> It, </em> again. Why am I a “he” but the other demons are “it”? Offense rose and I lifted my head, listening and feeling for Tahēsh’s <em> vīsh. </em> It was good to know where he was not, though I had no intention of ever seeing him again. He would kill me in a heartbeat if he found me. </p><p>I didn’t feel him, but I was sure I was hearing something -- and <em> feeling </em> something. <em> Hh’ainun vīsh, </em> not demon. And this scent, hidden in the rain...was it Travis? </p><p>“Zylas?” Robin interrupted my thoughts. “How do we find the demon?” </p><p>We don’t. We avoid him -- for both our sakes. <em> “Mailēshta,” </em> I replied, given she wouldn’t stop asking until I said something. </p><p>“What?” </p><p>“Annoying,” I accused. My gaze latched onto the buildings, learning as I looked. Human construction was a curious thing, but I couldn’t deny they made things easy for themselves. These bars and cages -- they were designed to reach the windows, allowing others in and out of them, yes? </p><p>“What’s annoying?” she checked, curious. </p><p>“You,” I told her. </p><p>She made an angry noise. “Very mature, Zylas,” she bit out, her anger continuing to climb. </p><p>My eyes caught on the lowest cage. That was a...ladder, yes? But it was held aloft, the bars interlinking with more. If I pulled it, would it drop? </p><p>Robin cut into my musings, saying, “Don’t even think about climbing that.” </p><p>Well, now I <em> was </em> thinking about it, I thought dryly. Maybe she shouldn’t be putting ideas in my head. </p><p>“The demon is on the loose because of you,” she said harshly, “so the least you can do is help stop it.” </p><p>Stop <em> Tahēsh? </em> “No.”</p><p>“Why not? Are you afraid you’d lose in a fight?” she challenged. </p><p>I swiveled a look on her, angry and offended, almost snarling. So much she didn’t know, I thought again, marveling at her stupidity. </p><p><em> “Vh’renith vē thāit,” </em> I hissed. </p><p>When I didn’t explain that, she demanded, “What does that mean?” </p><p><em> Victory or death. </em> The demon way. “It means I never lose,” I told her. </p><p>Surprise colored her expression, curious but not doubtful. She knew I didn’t lie. </p><p>Footsteps, again -- multiple, now. Faster, heavier. Hunters? They were close now. I glanced down the alley, estimating how much time before they reached this place, how quickly I could hide, if I needed to hide Robin, too. </p><p>“In that case,” she blundered on, oblivious, “you shouldn’t have any problem helping--” </p><p>“Quiet, <em> payilas,” </em> I interrupted. That scent -- it <em> was </em> Travis, her kin. He was looking for her. But then, why not call for her? </p><p>“Would you stop--” she started. </p><p>I seized her, pulling her against me to hold her still and covering her jabbering mouth. <em> “Quiet,” </em> I hissed with more urgency. “I am listening.” </p><p>Voices, just there, around the corner. The footsteps were gaining. Closer, now. Robin finally quieted, going still, obeying. I afforded her no further attention as I focused, scenting the air. Unfamiliar scents mixed with Travis’s, but they smelled similar to the males I’d killed in the library. They were from the same House. </p><p>I glanced down the alley, debating. Could I make it there before -- <em> no, </em> I answered myself. Another scent and pair of footsteps was coming from there, too. I’d been so focused on the first I hadn’t noticed the second until now -- too late. </p><p>Can’t go left, can’t go right. I stepped back, flattening against the wall behind me where the shadows were thickest. My tail flicked and curled around our ankles as I summoned the dark, obscuring us within it. My <em> payilas </em> acquiesced, silent, her too-soft form secure in my grasp. </p><p>She may not know what the danger was, but she knew there <em> was </em> danger. She held still, making neither move nor sound. <em> Ahktallis </em> -- finally. She understood. </p><p>I tried not to be distracted by the feel of her, but I couldn’t stop myself from <em> noticing. </em> Her form gave way so easily to even this much pressure, light though my touch was. And she was so small, it almost felt like I wasn’t holding anything at all, her body thin and slight against mine. A thought flickered: I could probably wrap my tail around her waist twice, it was so tiny -- even in this pose, facing each other. </p><p>The steps reached us. <em> Focus. </em> I watched, and soon shapes of a <em> hh’ainun </em> appeared around the building, his heat dampened by the cold rain. My head turned as another appeared on the other side, flanking this road. Robin noticed, too, her eyes watching mine in the dark. One human this way, one the other; they called to each other from opposite ends of the passage. </p><p>“Where are they?” </p><p>“I’m not sure. I lost them.” </p><p>“Let’s keep moving.” </p><p>By a miracle, my <em> payilas </em> had been smart enough to remain silent the entire time, even her breathing stilling. Uncertain fear had been drifting from her, but for the first time I realized it hadn’t been because <em> I </em> was the one touching her. No, in this moment, she trusted me. In this moment, she knew I held no intent to harm nor frighten her. </p><p><em> Can’t think about that now. </em> I listened, following the footsteps as they steadily moved away. I had scented Travis, but I hadn’t recognized his shape, nor had his scent become any more clear. The other <em> hh’ainun </em> carried his scent, I deduced; he wasn’t present. He’d been close to them recently. Their footfalls vanished into the falling rain, but I continued listening in case they doubled back. </p><p>I was reminded that two other humans deserved my claws, still. Travis was one. The leader from the library was the other. I would have to find them. </p><p>I was deep in plotting this when I felt it: my <em> payilas </em> was struggling. She growled into my hand, her fingernails digging into my skin in her ire. </p><p>I focused on her, curious. “What are you doing, <em> payilas?” </em> I wondered. She was...tickling me? </p><p><em> Let me go! </em> her voice shouted in my mind. </p><p><em> Ih? </em> I glanced at her sideways, confused -- and then it made sense. I chuckled. <em> “Na, </em> you are trying to hurt me? So I let you go?” Her nails were not nearly strong enough. “Too soft, <em> payilas,” </em> I crooned. She was like a harmless young and just as threatening. </p><p>She glared harder, but I felt her mind faltering again. She was aggravated -- and, I thought, dejected. She couldn’t harm me, and she was starting to realize that. </p><p>More footsteps, and then Amalia’s voice called out. </p><p>“Robin? Where are you?” </p><p>Amused, I looked down at my <em> payilas, </em> enjoying my victory. I stayed a second longer to make a point -- and to draw in more of her delightful softness -- and then I commanded myself back to the infernus. It was time for her to return to her guild, so it was time for me to go back into hiding. </p><p><em> Stupid jerk of a demon. A bully. That’s what he was, </em> she thought fiercely. </p><p>I laughed in the darkness. </p><p> </p><p>--</p><p> </p><p>She was angry again. Irritated. Frustrated. Her voice echoed these sentiments, and so did I. </p><p>This was boring and stupid and pointless. She and the others of her guild were continuing the hunt of Tahēsh, far into the depth of the night. They had better finish by morning, I thought, grouchy. I would need out before dawn to revel in <em> vayanin. </em> I hadn’t received enough <em> vīsh </em> from the day, thanks to the dark clouds covering the sky. And then I’d used some of my <em> vīsh </em> to heal my stupid <em> payilas’s </em> wound! </p><p>
  <em> Eshanā zh'ūltis.  </em>
</p><p>Anger burned in me as her thoughts continued to prove that their hunt had not ceased. At least they were being <em> ahktallis </em> enough to hunt in the rain and not the daylight. In the daylight, Tahēsh would be unstoppable. </p><p>She was alone again. Maybe not alone from all <em> hh’ainun, </em> but none of her guild were there. She was alone with her thoughts. </p><p>Which is why concern flashed in me when I heard her speak aloud. </p><p>“Hello? Anyone there?” </p><p>What was happening? Was there danger? My mind cast back to the humans who had cornered us in the alley. Had they returned, found her? Did I need to hunt them back? </p><p>Her mind skittered, her thoughts flickering. She remembered the alley, being held by me in the darkness, the others who had walked by. She was thinking the same thing? </p><p>“Hello?” </p><p>Her focus sharpened. And then -- movement. She falls. I feel her limbs jolt and splay, feel the sudden stop of her impact. Concern and panic filled her and she righted herself. I waited, tense, readying, for her call--</p><p>Her attention diverted. Surprise dimmed the panic of her mind, and then a new voice was speaking. No fear, now, just curiosity and nervousness. She was relaxing. </p><p>Annoyance built in me. She’d almost called me for a hunt, I was sure of it, and now she wasn’t. And who was with her? I had no way of knowing, but the very fact that she was calming in their presence irritated me. <em> I </em> was her protector, not them -- whoever they were. In a way, I felt betrayed by her daring to calm for <em> others. </em> </p><p>At last, her voice was heard. </p><p>“Grand Grimoire,” she answered a question, the name of her guild. “Did you see the sorcerer? He shot a spell at me then ran off down that alley.” </p><p>Surprise and fury tore through me. Someone had <em> attacked </em> her? If I’d had breath, I would’ve hissed. They <em> dared! </em> </p><p>“Back that way,” her voice said, continuing a conversation I could not hear. </p><p>Quiet, then. She was moving, walking, and the other’s voice continued speaking. What was he saying? Frustration welled. I wish I could hear more clearly -- wish that her thoughts were more clear. She wasn’t giving me much. </p><p>“Six months.” </p><p>Six months <em> what? </em> My mind cast back, thumbing through conversations. Aloud, she and Amalia had discussed their lie, our illegal contract. <em> Six months </em> had been their decision for how long I had been contracted to her. Was that what they were discussing? <em> Why? </em> It was <em> imadnul </em> -- and she shouldn’t be talking about this with anyone, anyway! Every bit of information she gave only placed more clues at our feet! </p><p>How could I keep protecting her if she didn’t have the sense of mind to keep quiet?! </p><p>Amalia’s voice, then. I recognized it, even distanced as it was. Then more voices, more discussions, more <em> talking. </em> I only caught glimpses from Robin’s mind, but at least she was holding her tongue now. I couldn’t trust her to remain silent when silence was smart. </p><p>“Who was that?” </p><p>I almost cringed hearing her speak again, anticipating what next she would say that she shouldn’t, but a question wasn’t so bad. She wasn’t <em> giving </em> information, she was <em> gaining </em> it. </p><p><em> Darius King. </em> This I heard clearly, her thoughts repeating the answer. <em> The guild master of the Crow and Hammer. </em> </p><p>Crow and Hammer. Another guild, I remembered. That answered a few questions of my own, concerned over who had approached my <em> payilas </em> and why. </p><p>It didn’t answer why she was calm in <em> his </em>presence. </p><p>Quiet, again. Her mind raced with thoughts, but only a few reached me. <em> The lives you expose. The intense danger present on these streets. </em> These were her thoughts, yet in a male’s voice; a memory. Had Darius King said these words? Why was she thinking them now, and with a sense of yearning? </p><p><em> Kasht! </em> Her mind was so confusing and she graced me with so very few of her thoughts. There was much she didn’t know, I reminded myself, but I was now realizing that there was much I didn’t know, either. I would need to learn more. </p><p>“Uh, I’m going to go...a different way.” </p><p>What? She was parting from the group? Eagerness leapt in me; would she be alone soon? </p><p>“I need to go home,” she said, but I tasted the lie even now. “It’s in the other direction. I’ll catch a bus.” </p><p>A protest started. </p><p>“I’ll be back in time for my next shift,” she promised. “I’ll catch up with you later.” </p><p>A thump. Then she was moving, walking, and I felt her fear start to overcome her again. What was she doing? Where was she going? Flickers of her thoughts centered on Tahēsh, still, and it annoyed me. Was she still looking for him? Foolish <em> payilas.  </em></p><p><em> I was alone. </em> </p><p>Finally! Taking that as an invitation, I took a brief second to feel in her mind for any further information -- none was given -- and stepped free of the infernus. </p><p>Another alley. She was in another alley. Did she like them, these half-formed roads? </p><p>She was looking down at her phone. Her most prized possession, I surmised. </p><p><em> “Payilas?” </em> I checked, disapproving. “What are you doing?” I recognized that image on the screen, even if I couldn’t look at it for long. She and Amalia had viewed it many times, mentioning <em> sightings </em> every time. It was a tracker of sorts -- tracking Tahēsh. </p><p>“We’re going to find the escaped demon,” she said firmly. Her fear hadn’t waned, yet she was so stubborn about this. </p><p>I felt a begrudging flicker of respect. She kept her promises -- even if the promises were only to herself. But it was dulled by an awareness, a feeling -- a glimmer. <em> Vīsh </em>was in this rain. </p><p>Demon <em> vīsh. </em> </p><p>“Why?” I demanded. Didn’t she know where she was, how close the danger was? I had to be quiet, unsure how sharp Tahēsh’s hearing was in this rain. He must be somewhere nearby, though the rain should be enough to hide us. Whoever or whatever he is hunting, I soothed myself, it wasn’t <em> me. </em> He couldn’t have possibly anticipated my presence here. </p><p>But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t leap at the opportunity to kill me. I had humiliated time and again, after all. </p><p>“Because we’re the reason it’s on the loose,” she said as if that explained everything. “Why can’t you and Amalia understand this? I freed you from the circle, and you freed the other demon. People are being hurt, and it’s our fault.” </p><p><em> None </em> of that made any sense. Though she wasn’t lying -- she believed her own words -- she was wrong. None of this was <em> our </em> fault; <em> we </em> had not done this. Tahēsh had made his choice, just like everyone else does. </p><p>Just like I had. </p><p>“So?” I prompted, trying to understand her bizarre mind. And, I noted, why hadn’t she snapped at me to not show myself this time? Had she relented, giving up on trying to control me? <em> It was about time. </em> </p><p>“Right. Of course you don’t get it. You’re a demon,” she said more to herself than me. She dropped her gaze back to her phone. “The most recent sighting was eight blocks away. We’re too far west.” </p><p><em> He is closer than you think, payilas. </em> I could scent him. He was far, yes, and his scent here was old as well, but he was closer than she thought. But if she wanted to head west, I would not stop her. </p><p>It would lead her <em> away </em> from him. </p><p>The object beside me caught my attention, then. It was large and rectangular, and I would bet my <em> payilas </em> could fit inside it. But it was stuffed full of something -- many somethings. Like cloth, but it smelled different. A small door opened horizontally on its front. What was the purpose of <em> this </em> object? </p><p>She walked away. </p><p>Glancing up, surprised that she had said nothing to me, I caught up to her in two strides. “Where are you going?” I demanded. </p><p>“To find the demon,” she quipped, irritated. </p><p>“Just like this?” I taunted, keeping up. Maybe if I irritated her enough, she would cease. “Walk, walk. <em> Na, </em> a demon! So easy,” I mocked. </p><p>Her anger was burning bright in her mind. “Help me, then,” she snapped. “I’m sure you have a better idea of how to find it.” </p><p><em> It, </em> again. “Why would I want to find him?” </p><p>“Why did you free him in the first place?” she threw back, ignoring me. </p><p>“Because he is old,” I answered quickly -- before I could think better of it. “He knows more...and he wants to return home too.” </p><p>She stopped, and a tension rooted in my chest as I faced her. Would she betray me now, now that I’d made the mistake of admitting my plan? </p><p>But her voice didn’t hint at betrayal. “You freed him to see if he knows a way back to your world,” she concluded simply, thoughtful. </p><p>No anger. No disbelief. No deceit. No offense, even. She just <em> understood. </em> It was baffling. </p><p>I ignored it, recalling Tahēsh’s cheap answer to my bargain. “But he does not know or he would not be playing games with <em> hh’ainun,” </em> I told her. “I should have left him in his circle.” </p><p>“Games?” she echoed, intrigued. “What kind of games?” </p><p>“Stalking games.” He was probably playing one even now. “He likes to hunt weak things on the ground.” Like me...and her. </p><p>She was shocked. “Do you <em> know </em> this demon?” she blurted. </p><p>Only too well. “His name is Tahēsh. He is the <em> Dīnen…” </em> I paused, struggling to think of the English word. “I do not know your word. He is...king?” I thought, foreign words tumbling in my mind. </p><p>Thunderstruck, she checked, “King? He’s a demon <em> king?” </em> </p><p>Why was that so shocking? I hefted up on a large, rectangular object, crouching on it. It was sturdy, though it was also on tiny wheels, and it gave me a slightly higher vantage point. The air was just a little faster here, carrying scents quicker. </p><p>“He is <em> Dīnen </em>of the First House,” I continued my explanation. “All of my kind know his name.” </p><p>Robin was quiet for a moment, and I could feel recognition sparking in her mind. She was remembering something. </p><p>“How many demon kings are there?” she asked. </p><p>Distracted, I answered, “Twelve.” My gaze checked the sky, the clouds, for disturbances. I sniffed the air. Was Tahēsh coming closer? Was his scent growing stronger? Hard to tell, but so dangerous if he was…</p><p>“Uncle Jack summoned a demon king,” she said, voice thick with awe. “That’s insane. And you set him free!” </p><p>“What is so impressive, <em> payilas?” </em> I returned, aiming for a mocking tone but unable to manage it with the increasing tension in my lungs. “He lived longest, so he became <em> Dīnen.”  </em></p><p>A feeling, a scent, carried in the air -- <em> vīsh? </em> That was bad… Was he aware of me? </p><p>“But...a king!” she continued, oblivious. “Does that mean he commands other demons?” </p><p>Was she stupid, or just giving in to her hunger for knowledge? </p><p>“He rules his House,” I answered, my eyes racing along the edges of the buildings around. Tahēsh wasn’t coming here -- not yet. But it was getting more likely by the second. “It is not a great thing,” I murmured, distracted. </p><p>She snorted. “Now you just sound jealous,” she quipped. “You wish you were a demon king too.” </p><p><em> “Ih?” </em> My attention swerved back to her, offended. She thought I was <em> jealous? </em> “I am,” I told her. </p><p>“You’re what?” </p><p>
  <em> “Dīnen.”  </em>
</p><p>Her eyes widened, stilling. “Wh...what? <em> You’re </em> a demon king?” she gasped, doubtful. </p><p>Glare leveled at her, I growled, “Of course, <em> payilas. </em> Do you know nothing?” <em> Only Dīnen </em> are summoned. </p><p>Her expression didn’t change. “You’re King of the Twelfth House…” she murmured, only just now realizing it. Had I the time, I might have teased her about this, given she was so stunned by the revelation. </p><p>But the <em> vīsh </em> grew stronger in the air. No more dallying. I dropped off my perch, approaching her with quick steps. “Finding Tahēsh is stupid, <em> payilas. </em> Leave now. Back to the other <em> hh’ainun,” </em> I ordered, hoping this new knowledge of me would coerce her into obeying. I was a <em> king; </em> would she obey a <em> king?  </em></p><p>A part of me knew better. </p><p>“What? No,” she denied, proving my doubt correct, “we have to stop him. I just explained--” </p><p>I advanced on her, brooking no argument, tension racing through me. The hunter was close. “Go back to the <em> hh’ainun,” </em> I repeated, harsher. </p><p><em> Can’t tell her. She wants to fight. Make her go, say nothing. </em> </p><p>She didn’t move. “No, I--” </p><p><em> No time for this! </em> </p><p>I nudged her, forcing her to move. “Go now,” I bit out. His scent was stronger now, advancing to our place. If he noticed me, if he <em> scented </em> me--! </p><p>“Quit it!” she snapped, aggravated -- but not afraid. <em> Now, </em> of all times, she did <em> not </em> fear? “I’m not leaving until Tahēsh is stopped,” she informed me, stubborn. </p><p><em> Then you will die. </em> </p><p>I pushed her again, harder than before. I was careful of my claws and her delicate body, but she had to <em> move. </em> </p><p>Fury ignited in her eyes. “Stop it!” she snapped, finally edging backwards. I took advantage of her movement, crowding her further back, continually stepping into her space so she <em> had </em> to move. </p><p><em> Not fast enough! </em> </p><p>“Faster, <em> payilas,” </em> I say, barely withholding a snarl for the sake of silence. If I was too loud...if Tahēsh scented me...if he found us, two small beings trapped in this cramped passageway… </p><p>I pushed her harder. My <em> payilas. </em> She had no idea of the danger lurking nearby, no fear of that which she should fear. And the contract, the contract I wasn’t certain of, my vow to protect her -- it meant nothing against Tahēsh’s strength. Would it compel me to defend her until death, only to then watch her die? </p><p>The scrape of claw against stone, so quiet yet so telling, reached me. My eyes darted to the sound. He was <em> close! </em> Was I his target? Did he come to kill the <em> Dīnen et Vh’alyir? </em> </p><p><em> No time! </em> I could go back in the infernus, but he would scent the <em> vīsh. </em> He would look for it, find her, maybe see the infernus, maybe recognize my scent -- maybe kill her for the fun of it… No, I couldn’t go back. Not yet. Not until he’d left. <em> Too dangerous. </em> </p><p>He wouldn’t stop with me. I had to get Robin out of here. Quickly -- now -- before Tahēsh located us. He was already searching. He would find us… </p><p>All because my soft, stupid, stubborn <em> payilas </em> was determined to <em> stop </em> him. </p><p>If we survived this, I just might strangle her. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Book 1, Chapter 21-22</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tahēsh was close -- too close. Close enough to be able to locate a single, isolated human by her scent, alone. </p><p>I had to get Robin out of here. I would drag her, carry her away -- whatever it took--</p><p>She ducked under my arm when I reached for her, trying to dart back into the alleyway. Alarm made me quick, snatching her coat and yanking her back into me, my mind racing. She must have figured it out, I deduced; I wrapped both arms around her, hauling her up so she couldn’t even <em> attempt </em> to run again. </p><p>Angry and scared, I growled in her ear, “What are you doing?” The instant Tahēsh found us--! </p><p>Struggling to breathe, she forced out, “Tahēsh is nearby, isn’t he? That’s why you keep looking at the sky and want to leave.” </p><p>I would <em> not </em> feel impressed by her intelligence, I told myself. Not now, not when her <em> zh'ūltis </em> plan was so close to getting us both killed! </p><p>“If you know,” I snarled in hushed tones, “why do you run toward him? Do you want to die?” </p><p>“You have to protect me,” she said, and I heard the victory in her voice. </p><p>It felt like stabs of ice in every one of my joints. </p><p>Then she inhaled deeply and screamed, <em> “Tahēsh!”  </em></p><p>Terror washed over me. I covered her mouth, jerking backwards into the only safe spot I could see -- up against a doorway in a corner -- my ears and nose straining to determine if my <em> payilas zh'ūltis </em> had just gotten us both slaughtered. </p><p>Where was he? <em> Where was he? </em> Have to see the danger, spot it, know where it is-- </p><p>A beat of a wing, the scent of <em>vīsh</em> -- my gaze shot upwards. The air heated above us. I leapt, kicking off the ground in a spring strong enough to throw us to the end of the alley; the <em>vīsh</em> hit a split second after my feet left the ground in brilliant crimson radiance, throwing us sideways into a building; I barely managed to twist in time to keep Robin from being crushed by the impact. </p><p>The alcove where I’d tried to hide us was missing and the remains of it rained down from all directions. No time left to think, to plan. Heart thundering, I heaved Robin up over my shoulder and darted from the passageway, using the wetness of the rain to help me cut around the corner. Robin’s weight threw off my balance; my tail compensated with a lash, keeping us from tipping. </p><p>The alleyway lit up in red light. </p><p>The powerful <em> vīsh </em> felt crushing, even from this distance. Can’t escape its reach in time; I pivot, calling a shield <em> vīsh, </em>hoping-- </p><p>Tahēsh’s attack collided with the shield, his magic so much more powerful than mine. It destroyed my shield, throwing me down; Robin hit the ground; I braced myself on my forearms, snarling down at her, seething with <em> hatred. </em> This was <em> her </em> fault--! </p><p><em> No time! </em> </p><p>I leapt up with all the strength and urgency I had, hauling Robin up to pin her against my side. My mind whirled with information. Two attacks, one right after the other, not even seconds apart; that speed, that raw power; no chance of surviving this! </p><p>I sprung up to one of the cages on the side of a building. No chance -- unless I had better vantage, unless I could <em> see </em> him coming. With one arm clutching my <em> ka’an payilas, </em> I hauled us up towards the top of the building, heart racing, head spinning, body aching--</p><p>“Watch out!” she shrieked. </p><p>I didn’t need to <em> look </em> to know what was coming. I could feel it, the heat and danger, pricking at my instincts. </p><p>I leapt, flinging us higher, just before the <em> vīsh </em>struck. The cage was torn from the wall; I clawed at the building, my nails failing to find purchase, then snagged a ledge. Tiny -- but good enough! </p><p>Tahēsh’s laughter echoed to us. <em> “Eshathē gūkkinanin venarish antin hh’ainun taridis, Dīnen et Vh’alyir,” </em> he taunted. </p><p>He was too close! Growling in rage, in terror, I dropped; the ground was safer, if only just. I needed a different position, further away. If I could lead Tahēsh to ground, then get up high… </p><p>It was a long shot. <em> Only chance. </em> </p><p><em> Risk it. </em> </p><p>My feet struck a metal structure, collapsing it under our combined weight, then I sprang into motion. Robin clung tight to my arm as I ran, panic making my limbs move faster, harder; I cleared the street, eyes darting, and spotted a possible vantage. The large box -- I’d tested one before. They were sturdy. </p><p>It could get us to the roof. </p><p>Another <em> vīsh </em> arced behind us. I felt it rocketing at my back and jumped above it -- <em> bad, never in the air, can’t maneuver </em> -- the force of the blast threw off my momentum and I went wheeling, Robin ripped from my grip -- where was she, where was Tahēsh -- where was <em> I?! </em> </p><p>I caught a glimpse of her, of him, in my tumble. I took the landing as best I could, but new pains sprang to life. Horror chilled me. I would be slower like this… </p><p><em> Can’t think about that! </em> </p><p>Desperate to live, to protect Robin, I twisted back to my feet, focusing on a <em> vīsh </em> . I would be slower -- that meant I had to <em> fight, </em> now. <em> Focus. See the runes clearly. </em> </p><p>Tahēsh dropped from the sky, aiming for me. <em> Not strong enough -- endure it! </em> </p><p><em> Impact. </em> His greater size, greater weight, his speed, sent a shockwave of pain through me. I tried to catch him, to hold my place; I skidded back. But my <em> vīsh </em> was clear in my mind. I’d had time enough for this. I threw my magic, he threw his; his won, the clashing effects bathing the area in red. As the force became too much to withstand, I dove, twisting aside. </p><p>Furiously, my mind analyzed my options. Tahēsh had wings, weight, age, more powerful magic -- my only option was to use my claws. </p><p>Desperately, I summoned the <em> vīsh </em> to strengthen my claws, lengthening them enough to rip straight through to his heart. </p><p>Tahēsh chuckled as if my claws were of no consequence. <em> “Kirritavh’an Zylas nailēris?” </em> he taunted, summoning his own, longer talons. <em> “Eshanā agrēris.” </em></p><p>I suppressed any reaction. All I needed was one clear shot at his heart, I told myself. I wasn’t hurt -- not yet -- just aching from my impacts. No wounds, no loss of blood. Tahēsh had not struck me, himself. He wasn’t as fast as I was. <em> Just one shot. </em> </p><p>He moved first -- as I wanted. I darted away from his claws, twisting, spinning. <em> Patience. Wait for the right moment, </em> I cautioned myself, but it wasn’t easy. Tahēsh was faster than I’d expected, and I had difficulty anticipating his attacks. He didn’t telegraph his moves the way <em> hh’ainun </em> did. </p><p>
  <em> Patience, watch, learn, wait.  </em>
</p><p>I didn’t notice him preparing another spell during his onslaught until it was too late. Crimson <em> vīsh </em> flashed around him, and a pressure forced me down, the impact rattling my brain as the ground collapsed under me. I slammed into the crater, my strength incapable of holding against the force he’d conjured. Echoes of the strike vibrated through the earth, a terrifying, crushing declaration of the raw power Tahēsh commanded. </p><p>A brief, almost hysterical thought wondered if he’d spare me if I surrendered now. </p><p><em> Vh'renith vē thāit! </em> my mind shouted at me. I snapped back to attention. </p><p>I heard Tahēsh’s next attack, diving down at me. With effort, I heaved myself out of the way, narrowly avoiding being torn apart. His shoulder was exposed to me, now, but before I could launch an attack, his tail swung, slamming into my unprotected middle. Pain ricocheted through me, but after all this, it blurred with all the rest. What was one more ache? </p><p>Fury was overtaking my terror. I launched for him, swinging, clawing, dodging, aiming; I pushed myself harder than I ever had before--</p><p>Pain raked across my arm as one of his attacks landed, and for one brief second, we stepped apart, assessing one another. Disbelief descended, then burned into another wave of rage. </p><p>He was unharmed. All of my speed, all of my attacks -- and I <em> hadn’t harmed him. </em> </p><p>I dove again. I was learning how he fought, but it was too little, too late. He had more weapons than I did, more experience, more power; he was unmatched, and I was little more than a flea upon his back. Even his horns were utilized, ripping open my chest where my breastplate did not protect it. </p><p>Worse, the strike threw off my momentum. I staggered, catching my feet, already knowing I had lost, already knowing Tahēsh would win--</p><p>With a victorious leap, he caught me in one large hand and threw me into the ground at his feet. Pain shot through my middle, ice slicking the spots in an instinctive, delirious need to numb the pain. But I knew what he’d done. The spearing pain went straight through me, five points, front to back. </p><p>One twist of those claws and I would be in two pieces. </p><p>He savored it, the fool that he was. He chuckled as he straightened, lifting me from the ground, examining my exhausted, defeated form. </p><p>It hurt all the worse, hanging like this. Hissing snarls escaped my throat, but he’d given me a window. I took it, seizing Tahēsh’s wrist and summoning a light spell. </p><p>No hunter can see in the dark, but even demons were blinded in the light. </p><p>I squeezed my eyes shut against the <em> vīsh </em> as it exploded between us, Tahēsh reacting as I’d hoped; he’d expected an attacking spell, so he threw me from the light as it appeared. For one suspended moment in time, I was weightless, flung from his claws -- and in that moment, I felt <em> relief. </em> </p><p>Then it ended, my back colliding with the very same box I’d hoped to use to get to the roof. My strength pooled out of me as my blood did, weakness and pain overtaking me. My head spun, my thoughts bouncing unhelpfully. I tasted the tang of my own blood, disbelief filling me. How long had it been since I’d tasted my own blood? </p><p>Dazed, I blinked through the light, getting my bearings. New terror struck as I realized Robin was near me, frantically moving, acting. What was she doing?! She needed to <em> run! </em> Tahēsh was recovering, and as he spotted us, he stalked closer, enjoying his game. </p><p>Whatever Robin was doing, its scent was foul, making it harder to breathe. Then she was there, beside me, and I wanted to rake my claws across her face in rage and hold her protectively and throw her as far as I could, all at the same time. </p><p>She seized me, trying to haul me back to my feet, urging, “Get up! He’s coming! We have to get away!” </p><p>The motions made the pain flare colder. I grunted with effort and agony, struggling to make my exhausted limbs <em> move. </em> </p><p>Desperation in every word, she screeched, “Zylas! You have to protect me! Get up!” </p><p>I sent her a murderous glare, that reminder the very <em> last </em> thing I wanted right now. </p><p>Then, in my mind, her voice: <em> Ready? </em> </p><p>She had a plan, I realized now. She’d done something. Would it be enough? <em> Risk it. Only chance. </em> I prepared another <em> vīsh, </em> waiting for her direction. Power thrummed in my arms, my legs, my chest. <em> Would it be enough? </em></p><p><em> “Luce!” </em> her voice called, a mixture of desperation, terror, and victory. </p><p>Whatever she’d done to the ground caused it to erupt in more light. Battling a wave of shock -- that was brighter than my own <em> vīsh </em> had been -- I seized her, activating my spell. </p><p>
  <em> Evashvā vīsh! </em>
</p><p>The power launched us up with a leap, high above the roof I’d been aiming for. Robin’s arms banded tight around my neck, hanging on for her life. The roof collapsed under my feet when I landed and pain ricocheted up my body; I couldn’t hold back a snarl of mixed anger and agony. Then, altering the spell, I changed <em> strength </em> to <em> speed </em> and kicked forward. </p><p>I could hear something in the distance, and my mind clinged to it as salvation. It was something moving at incredible speed, faster even than I could manage, I thought. If it continued moving, if I could reach it in time, we would both be safe. </p><p>Then I could go about punishing my <em> payilas </em> for trying to get me killed! </p><p>With single-minded focus, more strength than I’d known I possessed, and Tahēsh’s fury echoing behind me, I leapt from roof to roof, narrowing in on the sound. Whatever this thing was, it was moving fast, and that’s all I care to know. </p><p>It took a blind leap, and then we were descending on a series of huge, long, skinny rectangular boxes on some kind of track. It was moving faster than I’d suspected, and I knew as we descended it was going to hurt to land on it -- and we wouldn’t be able to keep from being thrown off it. </p><p>The impact was jarring, but I managed to keep balanced, my feet sliding across the wet surface -- and then we hit the end of the last box. With a desperate lunge, my claws caught the edge of it, and I locked my fingers into place. Clutching Robin with my other arm in a grip that was probably too hard for her softness and feeling moderately satisfied at the thought of her being <em> uncomfortable </em> from it, I held on as long as I could. </p><p> </p><p>--</p><p> </p><p>Eventually, my fingers cramped too badly to maintain their grip any longer. I’d been soaking up what heat I could in the meantime, drawing it from the air and the friction of this <em> thing </em> I held, and when I saw sloping grass, wet with rain, I finally let go. No hint of Tahēsh’s <em> vīsh </em> lingered here; he’d never been. </p><p>Using what strength remained in my body, I swung us off the moving boxes towards the ground. It was a fall, and I lamented feeling <em> more </em> pain before this was over, but I took it, hugging Robin protectively as we tumbled down to level ground. As soon as it was over, I finally, finally released her, allowing my exhausted form some rest. </p><p>She recovered quickly, leaning over me, touching me. “Zylas?” she prompted. </p><p>She sounded terrified. </p><p>I managed to focus on her, my mind swimming from the effort and blood I’d shed. “Are you safe here?” I demanded, my voice a quiet, cold rasp. </p><p>She glanced around, checking. “Yes,” she confirmed, “I think so.” </p><p><em> Kish lēvh… </em> </p><p>Even my thoughts were exhausted, and I exhaled roughly as my body vanished, returning to the infernus. For once, I didn’t mind the empty darkness from within it. For once, I didn’t care that I felt bored and drowsy. I allowed my consciousness to drift, muting my own thoughts. </p><p>I <em> welcomed </em> it. </p><p>I could still feel Robin. She was never free of my awareness -- or, perhaps, my awareness was never free of <em> her. </em> I could feel her thoughts racing, planning, building. I felt her emotions rocking and careening in her mind. It didn’t bother me right now; the more I allowed her mind to take over, the less I had to ruminate in my own. </p><p>Her movements, too, were frantic and helpfully distracting. And soon enough the peace of my stay in the infernus was interrupted. </p><p>“Zylas. Come out. I have something to help you.” </p><p>I heard her, but right now I didn’t care. I didn’t want to see her. Right now, she was intrinsically tied to the worst moment in my entire life. </p><p>She could suffer in silence. </p><p>Then -- something else. Heat. Heat? I felt it as if it were real, despite knowing that my form in the infernus wasn’t. It was a projection, a vision of myself, nothing more. But this heat--</p><p>“Zylas, come out, please!” </p><p>--it was <em> hers? </em> </p><p>Drawn by the lure of the warmth, I forced myself back out. And -- this was -- I barely had enough thought to recognize it. The motel room -- the motel bathroom? The females changed and bathed in here. What--</p><p>Oh. </p><p><em> Oh… </em> </p><p>Heat cascaded over my body and I realized it was <em> hot water. </em> However Robin had managed this, I didn’t know and didn’t care. Relief and power soaked into me, so powerful that my already-weakened limbs failed to hold me. I collapsed and felt Robin seize me on the way down, the both of us tumbling back with a collection of heavy thuds. </p><p>It hurt a little. I hoped it hurt her worse. </p><p>She moved, pulling my face out of the water -- <em> why? </em> It felt so good… </p><p>“Zylas?” she prompted, concerned. </p><p>I kept my eyes closed, absorbing the pleasurable water. “It is hot,” I noted dumbly. It was all my muddied mind could conjure to say. </p><p>Breathless, she murmured, “Yes.” </p><p>I didn’t move. Not yet. The heat was doing its job, infusing me with precious, desperate strength, as the water cleaned my wounds. I was content to stay here until <em> vayanin. </em> Robin could stay right where she was, too, her soft body acting as my pillow. It was cramped, my limbs uncomfortable, my tail tangled through my own legs, and her little body offered a tiny bit more comfort -- so she could stay. No -- she <em> would, </em> I corrected, until I felt gracious enough to release her. </p><p>She owed me that much. </p><p>She was quiet for a while, long enough that I started to forget she was there. Then, “Zylas… Will you survive?” </p><p>Did she sound <em> afraid </em> of that? My beliefs clashed: what I knew, what I was used to, what I expected...and what she was displaying. </p><p>Angry at the reminder that this was <em> all her fault, </em> I replied harshly, “You will not be rid of me this easily.” </p><p>“I’m not trying to get rid of you,” she threw back immediately, so quickly I knew it could not be a lie. </p><p>It was puzzling. Surely she wanted me dead, to free her from the contract? Surely that was why she had summoned Tahēsh…?</p><p>Chest convulsing, she bit out, “I’m so sorry.” </p><p>At long last, I peeled my eyes open, head tilted back to regard her. “Sorry?” I echoed. </p><p>Demons...didn’t apologize to one another. </p><p>Face tormented, she explained, “I thought you could beat him. I thought it would be easy for you. If I’d realized...I never would’ve tried to get you to fight him.” </p><p>My mind seized on one word of her apology. “Easy?” I repeated, anger stirring again. “You are <em> zh'ūltis. </em> Can you not see?” Did she not know anything? </p><p>“See what?” she asked, gaze darting over my face for answers. </p><p>I gave a weak, vague gesture of myself. “Why would you think I am stronger?” I rasped. I am smallest, thinnest, <em> weakest… </em> </p><p>“But...but you said…” she stuttered, confused. </p><p>With the strength of the water came my ability to feel irritated, my anger, my hatred. Soft as she was, I didn’t want to touch her anymore. Aggravation drove me to push away from her, cramming myself closer to the shower above. I had to throw a leg out of the bath to fit, which only increased my irritation. </p><p>Robin truly didn’t understand anything of demon Houses, did she? All that reading she did of that tome on demons and she still knew <em> nothing. </em> </p><p>“Tahēsh is <em> Dīnen </em> of the First House,” I informed her harshly, glaring, not even trying to hide my pique. “I am <em> Dīnen </em>of the Twelfth House. I am the weakest of them all.” As much as it grated on me to say those words aloud, the truth was yet the truth. </p><p>I’d had to live my life knowing this, owning it, never allowing myself to forget. <em> Weakest of them all. </em> If I allowed pride to blind me, I would die that same day. No -- for me, for any Vh’alyir, <em> knowing </em> equalled <em> survival. </em> </p><p>Robin’s face was tormented and her emotions spiraled with negativity. “I’m sorry,” she repeated brokenly. “I should’ve realized you had no chance against Tahēsh.” </p><p>Offense flared. “No chance?” I echoed, glaring harder. “Insulting me more, <em> payilas.” </em> Uncomfortable, I shifted, grating, “I can kill anything. Any of them. I did not become <em> Dīnen </em>by losing,” I informed her firmly. “I survive because I never lose.” </p><p>Confused, she argued, “But you just lost really badly.” </p><p><em> “Kanish!” </em> I snapped, a surge of anger driving me to reach for her. I barely managed to control my grip, my fingers slipping through her damp hair to drag her closer by the back of her head. <em> “You </em> are the reason I lost!” I snarled at her. “You forced me to fight him when I could not win!” </p><p>Her fear came billowing back. I could feel it as assuredly as I could smell it, and she froze, visibly terrified. Bloodlust filled me, wanting so badly to make her pay for my near death. Only the reminder that I would be dead today anyway if not for her stopped me. That, I amended, and the fact that she’d promised to help me go home. No other human would give me that much. </p><p>I released her, turning my face away to focus on the water, hoping she would leave. I needed to recover and she was, by far, the most aggravating, agonizing being I had ever known. This contract with her would get me killed, I was realizing, and for the first time, I <em> resented </em> our bond. </p><p>She eased back. “I don’t understand,” she admitted. </p><p>I didn’t care to clarify anything. <em> Begone, payilas. </em> </p><p>She hesitated. Then, “You said you never lose, but you also said you couldn’t win against Tahēsh.” </p><p>She wasn’t going to leave me alone until she understood, was she? Aggravation made my voice rough as I bit out, “Winning and <em> not losing </em> are different things. If you lose, you die.” </p><p>She gave a sigh, understanding. “So you never lose?” she checked. “How?” </p><p>“If I am not certain I can win, I do not fight -- and I wait. That is how I have survived the other <em> Dīnen.”  </em></p><p>“What do you wait for?” </p><p><em> Kūathē gish. </em>Go away. </p><p><em> “Dh'ērrenith,” </em> I answered gruffly. “It means...assured victory.” I glanced at her, then away. “I wait until they are weak, distracted, injured, alone. I wait until they have forgotten to watch for me. I wait until I can strike from behind, from above, from wherever they do not see me. And I kill them. I never lose,” I reiterated. </p><p>She would do well to learn this lesson, I thought. </p><p>Humiliation reignited in me, and I finished through my teeth, “Until you. Now I have lost.” </p><p>Under her breath, she murmured, “I’m sorry. I made a mistake.” </p><p>A mistake? <em> A mistake? </em> No -- a mistake was when you stepped on a twig during a hunt. A mistake was forgetting to check an unfamiliar area for threats before resting there. A mistake was entering into a contract with a stupid human girl who’d offered nothing of worth in return and then <em> not </em> letting the superior hunter kill her when he had the chance! </p><p>I ignored her. I had nothing more to say, and no more patience to listen to her <em> zh'ūltis </em> words. <em> Apologies </em> wouldn’t change the fact that, thanks to <em> her, </em> I had lost the first battle of my life. Thanks to her, I had come closer to death than I ever had, even closer than when I’d been in the summoning prison. </p><p>By a mercy, she finally understood and left. Only when she was gone did I let myself relax, the tension leaving my muscles. Unfortunately, as I relaxed, new aches sprang to life. Knots, I concluded. Things my healing <em> vīsh </em> wouldn’t be able to fix. I would just have to deal with those for now. </p><p>I stayed where I was, unmoving, absorbing the heat, for as long as I could. After a while I tilted my head back to capture the water in my mouth, swallowing some of it. It warmed me on the inside as well as the outside, more and more of it filling me with <em> vīsh. </em> </p><p>Eventually, though, the water began to cool. Aggravated worse at the water’s limited capacity, I forced myself up, stepping out of the bathroom into the bigger room. I hated being in the same place as Robin, but I would need the space to heal. </p><p>As I started removing my armor, I couldn’t help noticing her. She watched me, wearing new clothes. I disdained that she had something dry to change into and I didn’t. </p><p>Amalia wasn’t here, I noticed belatedly. I hadn’t even been listening for her. Not that I cared; she grated on my nerves. I would prefer her to not be here at all. </p><p>Once I had my chest and arms bare, able to see my wounds more clearly, I set about healing them. It was going to hurt -- a lot -- but between the heat and my thick blood, at least they’d stopped bleeding by now. </p><p>Taking a seat, I focused on the <em> vīsh, </em> finding each of my wounds (my anger continued to mount with each one, aimed directly at Robin), then adapting the <em> vīsh </em> to handle them, one by one. Once all the runes were in place on the floor around me and snaking over my arms, ready, I began the incantation. </p><p>I sucked the heat from the room as I worked, and I refused to let myself feel worried about her own state of well-being as the warmth was drawn into me. For this, I needed all the strength I could get. She would just deal with it -- like <em> I </em> was dealing with the shame of defeat. She watched, but by this point I was beyond the ability to care. </p><p>Then the pain came. It’d hurt this entire time, but once my <em> vīsh </em> was done, it flared all the worse. <em> Kasht </em> -- it felt like I was getting impaled all over again! I cringed and fought spasms, and my hatred for Robin burned brighter. All this agony was <em> her fault! </em> </p><p>When the spell was finished and I could breathe again, she looked me over, then edged closer. </p><p>“Does it still hurt?” she ventured, cautious. </p><p>My mind spewed curses at her. And, now that my wounds were healed, my muscle knots felt all the more painful; I got up, intent on working out at least a few of them before exhaustion took me. The one in my shoulder was the worst -- the one I got from my first impact as I protected the <em> payilas zh'ūltis </em> standing just in front of me -- so I focused on that one. </p><p>It was a simple stretch. Lean forward, place my hands flat on the ground; lean backwards, do the same. Unfortunately it didn’t do the trick, and I rolled my shoulder. That didn’t do any good, either, my ire growing. </p><p>Robin edged past me and into the bathroom. Ignoring her, I contemplated whether to head back to the infernus or continue stretching. The water finally cut off, and then she came back and a cloth was tossed over my shoulders. </p><p>I swung a look on her, not the least bit trusting of her after what had happened. </p><p>Sheepish, she muttered, “You should dry off. So you don’t get cold.” </p><p>A part of me recognized that she was trying to help. </p><p>The rest of me resented her very presence. </p><p>I shoved the garment off, refusing to accept <em> any </em> of her aid, and strode from her. I still hadn’t decided whether the infernus would be the better option for my rest, yet. I knew my aches would remain while there, given I could do nothing to ease them, but I so very badly did <em> not </em> want to deal with Robin’s presence and words and scent, either. </p><p>Her voice drifted over, hesitant. “You can lie down if you want,” she offered. “If...if that would be more comfortable than the infernus?” </p><p>...Had she heard <em> my </em>thoughts? I chose not to look at her to check that. Instead, replaying the battle over in my mind, I decided to check on my armor. The chestplate would be fine, but the other pieces? Removing the leg pieces, I turned over one of the greaves in my hands, examining it. </p><p>Not too bad, but I would need to repair it, I deduced. Later -- when my <em> vīsh </em> was replenished. </p><p><em> Kasht. </em> Another thing Robin was costing me. </p><p>She vanished into the bathroom again, and my eyes snagged on the bed. It was alluring, a promise of comfort. </p><p>I gave in. After what had happened, Robin owed me much; taking her bed was justified. </p><p>Stretching out on my stomach, I followed her movements, still simmering in anger. When she left the bathroom again, I watched her, ready to pounce if she did anything suspicious -- like picking up my armor and moving it, I thought, scowling, as she did just that. She moved them to the bathroom, a few pieces at a time. </p><p>She paused with one of the armguards in her hands, though, giving it a curious look. Pulling the infernus from her sweater, she compared the two. Then, turning my armor so I could see, she asked, “What’s this?” </p><p>She was pointing at the sigil carved into it. She didn’t know <em> this, </em> either? I thought, bewildered. </p><p>I considered not answering, but this would be better if she knew it. “The emblem of my House,” I answered, but I wasn’t <em> happy </em> to be talking with her. </p><p>She looked at me, her thoughts running, running, running again. I kept my expression firmly rooted in “danger, do not approach”. </p><p>Setting the armor aside, she approached. A sound of displeasure rumbled in my throat. </p><p>She sat on the bed by my side. “Zylas…” she started, paused. Forging on, she said, “Once Tahēsh has been stopped -- by other mythics -- I’ll start researching a way to get you home.” </p><p>“Why not now?” I demanded, moderately glad that she’d removed <em> us </em> from those hunting the First House <em> Dīnen.  </em></p><p>I would not want to face him again. </p><p>“It’s part of blending in,” she explained, gaze downcast. “All the guilds are hunting Tahēsh. Until he’s stopped, anything I do will draw too much attention to us.” </p><p>Truth, I determined. Our promises echoed in my mind, the rules and stipulations to our contract -- very little of which I didn’t doubt, at this point. My tail twitched in frustration and I turned my face away from her. </p><p>Her weight shifted, just a little. Ignoring that, my shoulder still aching, I attempted to rub it out, but I couldn’t get a good angle. I couldn’t apply enough pressure. </p><p>Her hand touched me, digging into the same muscle that was causing me so much discomfort. </p><p>I reacted violently, snarling as I got up on my hands and knees, ready to pounce on her. If she planned to hurt me now, while I was still recovering--! </p><p>“What are you doing?” I demanded, savagely. </p><p>She recoiled. “Sorry! I-I was trying to help…” she defended, frightened. </p><p>That didn’t make <em> sense! </em> Confused at her mind but satisfied that she wasn’t trying to get a blade in my back, I laid back down again. As my tail gave warning darts, I grumbled, “Go away.” </p><p>She made to do so, only to pause. She eyed me -- I warned her away with a harder scowl -- and then she moved closer, bringing both her hands to my back. Her impossibly soft, <em> hh’ainun </em> fingers pressed in, seeking. </p><p>I gave her my deadliest hiss. “Go <em> away,” </em> I repeated, about ready to snap and send her flying across the room. I resented her -- her words, her eyes, her scent, her mind, all of it. Right then, I hated her soft little hands and how <em> good </em> they felt. </p><p>Ignoring my order, she said, “My mom would spend hours hunched over faded grimoires. I used to give her a massage a few times a week,” she informed me as if it made a difference. “I’m pretty good at it.” </p><p>Her hands were rubbing the entire time, and I hit my limit. That was it. Reminded that she didn’t know what was good for her, had no idea what danger looked like or how to avoid it, I decided to give her a lesson on why <em> prey </em> should never approach the <em> hunter-- </em></p><p>...Oh. </p><p>She <em> was </em> pretty good at this. </p><p>I was about to shove her over when the thought stopped me, surprised. Her thumbs were working through the knot I’d had such a difficult time reaching, rubbing it with steady, firm circles. The pressure began to abate almost immediately, and with it, the ache. Caught between throwing her off me and trading out this pain for pleasure, I decided to give her...a chance. </p><p>I settled back into the bed, but I kept my eyes on her -- just in case. But she did nothing suspicious. Her gaze was focused as she worked, even content. She <em> liked </em> doing this, <em> na? </em> </p><p>I didn’t understand. My memories were full of others touching me with intent to kill, but this...this was different. I wasn’t even sure what to call it. Intent to...relax? Intent to comfort? It <em> was </em> comforting, I admitted. For all that she was so soft, her hands were also firm. She moved from one tense muscle to the next, and under her ministrations, they unbound. </p><p><em> Bizarre. </em> That’s what she was. She was bizarre, forever reacting unexpectedly. No matter what I <em> thought </em> she would do, no matter how I anticipated her to act, she always managed to do something unexpected. </p><p>Once, I’d likened her to a puzzle. I hadn’t realized then how right I would be. </p><p>I’d lost focus of her, I realized, my gaze slipping. I wasn’t seeing much of anything at all, in fact. Her hands conjured such pleasantness in me, and coupled with my exhaustion, I felt myself drifting away. What’s worse is, once I realized it was happening, I could still do nothing to stop it. My <em> payilas </em> was lulling me again, this time with the sweet promise of a comfortable sleep. </p><p>Eventually, my eyes slipped closed. I was still vaguely aware of her, able to feel it when she paused. A part of me tried to snap at her to keep going, but I was too far gone to say it. Then, to my surprise, her hand went higher, brushing through my hair. </p><p>It was the single most intimate touch I’d ever allowed, but right then, I had neither the ability nor the inclination to stop her. With her sweet scent in my nose, my mind receded, bliss taking over. Serenity descended, and in my last flicker of consciousness, I marveled at this feeling of <em> peace. </em> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Book 1, Chapter 23-24</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Robin was studying again. I didn’t mind; by now I understood that when she stared at her phone like that, she was compiling information. Good with knowledge, I thought again. And every time I’d asked what she was doing, she’d explained: <em> I’m looking for Demonica books. I’m checking the MPD’s reports. I’m following Tahēsh’s movements. I’m learning more about spells. I’m studying magic portals.  </em></p><p>All useful things. She was upholding her promise. Plus, she wasn’t hiding anything from me. Any questions I asked, she answered. </p><p>I didn’t trust her after what had happened with Tahēsh -- I doubted I ever would -- and I still hadn’t forgiven her for her “mistake”, but as long as she kept to her promises, I would keep to mine. </p><p>Her behavior had changed over the last few days, as well. Before, she’d been so scared all the time she could barely function. She hadn’t even trusted in the infernus and our contract, I knew. But since the fight with Tahēsh -- maybe out of a sense of gratitude -- she’d become more like how she’d been before our contract. </p><p>She spoke more easily, didn’t flinch as much, didn’t scream and run, didn’t <em> cower. </em> And, more importantly, she’d begun sharing her food with me again. </p><p>It’d started simple enough. Amalia had left to retrieve a meal for them (Amalia liked to spend every possible second away from me, I’d learned, so she was often the one to fetch foods), and when she’d returned, I’d eyed their dishes with interest. It’d smelled good. </p><p>Robin had noticed, and she’d asked if I wanted to try it. At first -- and she fully deserved this -- I’d sneered at her offer and returned to brooding. But she’d already seen my curiosity, and within moments, she had selected pieces of each different dish, presenting them to me on a <em> napkin. </em> </p><p>Disbelief and suspicion had filled me, unsure if she was doing what I <em> thought </em> she was doing. It took me a moment to recall that, as a <em> hh’ainun, </em> she had no idea what demon traditions included; if she’d known, she never would’ve offered <em> me </em> her food. She had no interest in me, I’d reminded myself -- ignoring the burn of annoyance at that thought. </p><p>Curiosity had gotten the better of me and I’d eaten the samples. Robin had looked <em> pleased, </em> reminding me how she once said she liked baking for others. Though this wasn’t even her own food, she’d taken pleasure in sharing it. </p><p>Bizarre female. At least she’d stopped trying to get me to <em> chew </em> everything. That would never be happening. Although, I admitted, it’d been mildly amusing how she’d insisted the food would be <em> better if you chewed. </em> Ignoring her was fun, in its way. </p><p>But, thanks to that, I was now a glutton for the new. Anytime Amalia returned with more meals, I would hover over Robin, expectant. And she was always so willing to give, surprisingly. She didn’t give me much, and for this I had no complaint -- she needed the food; I didn’t -- but I didn’t need much to remember things. It didn’t take long for me to assemble a mental map of the foods, determining which were good and which were not. </p><p>Thus, when I recognized the harsh, quick footfalls heralding Amalia’s approach, I rose from my rested position on Robin’s bed, perching at the corner of it. My tail twitched with interest, wondering what Amalia had retrieved tonight. She walked through the door in another moment, already complaining. </p><p>I half-listened as the females spoke, more interested in the food than their jabbering. Robin had something new today; Amalia said it was “sweet and sour chicken”. </p><p>Sweet <em> and </em> sour? That was intriguing. </p><p>The <em> chicken </em> was less so. But we’d already established that <em> hh’ainun </em> meats were lacking; I didn’t trust Robin with much, but I trusted her not to give me things she knew I wouldn’t like. And, as I watched her separate a portion for me, I confirmed that there was no <em> chicken </em> in it with a careful sniff. </p><p>Amalia noticed, too, stopping her conversation to complain, “Also, do you <em> have </em> to do that?” </p><p>Robin looked up at her, then offered me the chosen collection of tiny drops of food without comment. I gave it another sniff, wondering at the sauce coating it; satisfied that it was, indeed, sweet <em> and </em> sour, I flipped it into my mouth. She took the napkin out of my hand before I could throw it. </p><p>A shame, that. It’d been fun to watch her scowl at me as she went to pick up everything I dropped on the floor. </p><p>It wasn’t bad, I determined. <em> Hh’ainun </em> food had such varied flavors, I couldn’t help marveling at them all. How did they make such delicacies? What was the trick? </p><p>Displeased, Amalia pointed out, “He doesn’t need food. Why are you wasting it on him?” </p><p>“Because he likes to try it,” Robin answered. Changing the subject, she prompted, “So? The hunt?” </p><p>I withheld a smirk. I found it funny, how the females so frequently spoke about me as if I wasn’t here. I liked listening. So often, Amalia would complain or argue, and Robin would reply with solid, undeniable logic. Listening taught me a great deal about how both of their minds worked. </p><p>I didn’t care even half as much about what Amalia thought than I did what Robin did -- which, admittedly, wasn’t very much anyway -- but it helped me understand. The more I understood, the easier this contract would be until our inevitable parting. </p><p>Logical. </p><p>“Quit indulging him,” Amalia shot back. “He’s already useless. You don’t need to--hey!” she snapped. </p><p>I’d snatched her box from her hands. I might enjoy listening to the females, but I wouldn’t stand to be insulted -- especially by being called <em> useless </em> by this <em> hh’ainun </em> who had done far less than I had thus far. Just to annoy her, I made a show of digging my hand into her food, then dropped a tangle of it down my throat. </p><p>Incensed, she raised her voice. “That’s <em> mine, </em> you horned freak of-- <em> ahk!” </em> </p><p>I wound my tail around the leg of her chair, catching it in the barbs, and yanked it up, throwing her backwards in the process. Still sitting cross-legged on the bed, I cleaned my fingers of the remains of <em> her </em> food with long, lingering licks. For the fun of it, I pretended I’d done nothing wrong, that it was her own clumsiness that had thrown her from her chair. My tail dragged across the floor in slow sweeps, taunting her. </p><p>Amalia got to her feet, visibly shaking even as her voice remained firm. “You promised not to hurt me if I helped Robin!” she accused. </p><p>I tilted my head at her, radiating a hostile warning. “But are you helping?” I challenged, my tone teasing even as my words threatened. “Are you useful? How?” I pressed. </p><p>She went rigid, fear billowing off her. </p><p>Robin stepped in, taking Amalia’s box from my hands and offering it back to her. </p><p>Amalia made a face. “Not after he stuck his hand in it,” she declined, disgusted. “Yuck.” </p><p><em> Hah. </em> That was the reaction I’d wanted. <em> Suffer no meal tonight, female, </em> I taunted silently. </p><p>Then, to my disbelief, Robin switched the boxes, giving Amalia her sweet and sour chicken instead. I blinked at her, confused; why would she give up her food for another’s? I didn’t count -- we were contracted -- but Amalia and Robin had no such bond. They were kin, but as I’d learned, they had only known each other for a handful of days. </p><p>They were as much strangers as Robin and I were, but without any kind of actual bond. </p><p>Swapping to the box of noodles as if nothing at all had happened, Robin prompted again, “Demon hunt?” She dug into the mass with a fork with no hesitation. </p><p>I wondered why Amalia was disgusted with the food I’d touched, but Robin was not. Granted, I was clean and she knew it; she was aware that I used <em> vīsh </em>daily to keep myself and my clothing and armor clean. But I was still a demon in the human world, and I understood that aside from fear, they also felt revulsion for me and my kind. </p><p>Robin certainly had shown it, herself -- until recently. What had changed? </p><p>Shaking herself, Amalia dug into her new meal, answering, “The body count is rising. Several combat teams have engaged it, but no one has had much luck.” </p><p>Robin wilted. She felt responsible again, I surmised, though I was still baffled as to why. She didn’t seem to understand that Tahēsh’s actions were his own, that she was neither involved with his rampage nor at fault for it. Trying to explain that to her had done nothing; our arguments on the subject had gone in circles until I’d given up. She would never learn. </p><p>She said now, “I don’t understand what Tahēsh is doing. Why is he <em> only </em> roaming around the Eastside? He could go anywhere. He must have a goal or purpose in mind.” </p><p><em> Amalia </em> understood, I thought. She knew Tahēsh was not her fault, even though -- by Robin’s logic -- she was <em> more </em> at fault. Her own father had summoned him. Yet she had professed no responsibility -- because she knew she owed nothing. </p><p>“Does it matter?” the blonde said now, shrugging. “Maybe he can’t get away anymore. One team reported that the demon is injured and can’t fly well.” </p><p>My attention riveted back to her, the report suddenly coming into focus. “Injured?” I cut in sharply. “What injuries?” </p><p>Her gaze lifted to mine, surprised. “A broken wing and a damaged hand, according to the report,” she said, and I admitted she just might be useful after all. “Its injuries aren’t really slowing it down,” she added, a warning. </p><p>Perhaps not to <em> hh’ainun </em> eyes, I thought, but demon eyes saw more. I strode to the window to contemplate in silence, wondering, my gaze scanning the horizon as if I could spot Tahēsh from here. Was this it? Was it time to strike back? He would not expect me, I concluded, not after his defeat of me. I had run; he would not anticipate my return. What’s more, he seemed focused on something else, fixated somehow. He was injured and fixated and would not see me as a threat. </p><p>Together, this equalled… </p><p><em> “Payilas,” </em> I interrupted the females, belatedly recognizing that they had been speaking of Jack, the summoner. <em> Think of him later. </em> I faced Robin, checking, “As long as Tahēsh wanders freely, you must stay here and <em> blend in, </em> yes?” </p><p>Suspicion crossed her features. “Yes,” she answered carefully. </p><p>A plan began forming in my mind. “Then it is time to hunt,” I told her. </p><p>Stunned, she prompted, “You mean...you want to go after him?”</p><p>“He is injured. I want to see how much,” I said, wondering, hoping, relishing; victory was close. </p><p>She hesitated. “But…” Shaking her head <em> no, </em> she pointed out, “Even injured, he’s too strong. He could kill you.” </p><p><em> Could </em> did not mean <em> will. </em> </p><p>Striding up to her, I replied, “Small and weak ones like us, <em> payilas, </em> we can still kill the strong.” </p><p>Something hot alighted in her blue eyes -- just as I’d intended. My words, though truthful, had been chosen specifically to whet <em> her </em> appetite, too. She wanted this, after all: she wanted to stop Tahēsh. </p><p>I wanted his head. </p><p>I just had to convince her I could take it. I had to tempt her to want to <em> help </em>me take it. We could both get what we wanted. </p><p>“I can sense it,” I continued, starting to grin. “The time of <em> dh'ērrenith.”  </em></p><p><em> That </em> got her attention, recognizing the word. She understood, though fear yet wafted off her. “Are you certain you want to do this?” she checked, cautious. “We don’t have to.” </p><p><em> Just one more push, </em> I thought, leaning down closer to her. Holding her gaze, moving deliberately into her space and trying to make her feel <em> my </em> certainty, I growled low, “This time, we will hunt <em> him </em> -- and this time, he will feel <em> my </em> claws.” </p><p> </p><p>--</p><p> </p><p>We were close. I could scent Tahēsh nearby, and -- with Robin in my arms -- I’d crept as close as I dared, staying downwind of him as I’d climbed the tallest building within eyeshot of him. He was far, but I could see his heat in the distance. </p><p>He wasn’t as warm as he’d been before, I saw immediately. He was tired. He wasn’t regaining <em> vīsh </em> as well as I was. And even so far away, I could see that his wing wasn’t folded properly. He truly <em> was </em> injured, and without his wings as aid, he would be that much slower. </p><p>I’d analyzed my memories of our fight in painstaking detail before coming here, looking for all the information I could possibly gather. One thing I’d noticed was that Tahēsh frequently used his wings to propel him forward or to the side at faster speeds. With an injured wing, he would be unable to do so. With an injured wing, <em> I </em> would be much faster than <em> him. </em> </p><p>Anticipation hummed in my veins, the promise of a victory greater than any other. A Twelfth House demon slaying a First House one would be a great shock by itself, but a <em> young </em> Twelfth House <em> Dīnen </em> slaying <em> Tahēsh, </em> the First House <em> Dīnen, </em> a being ages older and more experienced? </p><p><em> My name will never be forgotten. </em> </p><p>I hungered for it. </p><p>By my side on the building I’d climbed, visibly terrified of what was to come, my <em> payilas </em> broke the long silence. </p><p>“Now what?” she ventured under her breath, her words only barely audible despite the short distance between us. </p><p>Given her eyes couldn’t see in the pitch darkness, I decided to help her. “He is on that roof,” I informed her, pointing it out. “He is not moving.” </p><p>Her face pinched with effort. “Is he hurt? If he was injured, why wouldn’t he heal himself?” she breathed. </p><p>Superiority flashed in my veins. “It is the most difficult <em> vīsh </em>to master,” I told her. “He did not learn it.” </p><p>Surprise flickered through her mind. “But you did?” </p><p>I grinned at her. My upbringing had granted me numerous advantages and boons, and whenever someone recognized this, I couldn’t help feeling arrogant about it. Her surprise was another shot of pure pleasure for me. </p><p>But I couldn’t afford to lose sight of Tahēsh for long. As I turned my attention back to him, wondering what, exactly, he was waiting for, Robin checked her phone. He wasn’t moving -- not yet. He definitely had a goal in mind, I just couldn’t guess what it was. </p><p>Robin gave a tiny, surprised jolt. “The Crow and Hammer guild is right across the street from Tahēsh,” she informed me on a breath. “Why is he waiting beside a guild?” </p><p>Good question, but the answer was <em> imadnul. </em> “Something to hunt?” I postulated. Why else would he be waiting <em> anywhere? </em> </p><p>She fell silent again, and I gave the buildings nearby Tahēsh another look. How best to reach him? There were many of the buildings but few as tall as the one Tahēsh was crouched upon. He’d chosen the highest perch; it would be impossible to reach him from above… </p><p>“Now what?” Robin asked again. </p><p>I tightened my crouch, hiding my presence further. “Ambush him,” I answered simply. “I will attack from behind, but I must get close. Any closer than this and he might sense me. If I use <em> vīsh, </em>he will know,” I worked out to myself. </p><p>Robin stared as if just now realizing that I truly was the hunter. </p><p>I continued quietly, “He might not come down, so I must go to him…” Thoughts racing, I gave her a look, measuring, judging. Would she be able to reach Tahēsh while I waited in the infernus? It would be a good way to mask my presence, but… </p><p>She angled away from me, intimidated. “What?” she demanded. </p><p><em> No, </em> I concluded. “You cannot do it,” I told her. She couldn’t possibly climb to him -- not silently, anyway. He would hear her approach. </p><p>“Do what?” she threw back immediately, as if offended. </p><p>“Get close enough,” I explained. “If I am inside the infernus, he will not sense me, but you would not get close enough -- not while he is up high.” </p><p>Her thoughts raced behind her eyes, and she returned, “I could sneak through the interior.” </p><p>She <em> could, </em> I allowed. What’s more, she was <em> willing </em> to do so. I might just have to reassess my judgement of her usefulness-- </p><p>Movement. I heard it first, the scrape of heavy claws on stone, and it snapped my focus back to Tahēsh. “He is moving!” I hissed urgently. </p><p>Tahēsh gave a leap, wings spread, and pivoted to glide <em> away </em> from our spot. <em> Kasht! </em> </p><p>Wait, no -- this might be good, I amended. I just had to keep up. </p><p>“Where is he going all the sudden?” Robin wondered, surprised. </p><p>Already rising, I replied, “If he goes to ground, it is my chance,” as I hauled her up and got to my feet. With a leap, I began the drop, spinning as I went to grasp ledges on the way down. Drop, drop, ground; I darted after Tahēsh, not a second to waste. </p><p>Robin gasped, “Stop! <em> Stop!” </em> </p><p>Scowling, I stopped, wondering what was so important she had to interrupt my hunt <em> now. </em> </p><p>She wriggled out of my grip, then rubbed her waist, aggravated. “You’re crushing me,” she accused. </p><p>It wasn’t <em> my </em> fault <em> hh’ainun </em> were so pitifully weak! I couldn’t even carry my <em> payilas </em> around without her bruising from it! </p><p>“If <em> you </em>could go in the infernus,” I shot back, “this would be easier.” </p><p>She said nothing but her irritation was on display as she hopped onto my back. I tugged her legs around my waist to secure her grip, and then I was sprinting. I barely felt her weight, but the shape of her made it a little harder to maneuver; my tail kept us balanced. And, I noted, there were no humans anywhere, not for a long way, so I didn’t bother keeping to the <em> sidewalks. </em> </p><p>I raced down the center of the road, the moisture lesser here, my feet having an easier time keeping their grip. And it felt exhilarating to move so quickly again; I felt like it’d been ages since I’d last been able to just <em> run. </em> </p><p>Buildings whipped past as I followed the scent of Tahēsh, and I felt his <em> vīsh </em>as I approached, before I even heard the sounds of battle. He was fighting. </p><p>A slow grin spread across my face. <em> Perfect. </em> </p><p>The buildings gave way to nature as I zeroed in on my target, grass and bushes and trees standing isolated in a rectangle between the city blocks. With a calculated leap, I dropped onto the soft grass, muting my footfalls. Racing to the trees for cover, I found a perfect vantage place and watched. </p><p>Tapping Robin’s leg, I guided her down and absently caught her by the coat so she wouldn’t accidentally reveal herself. She crouched lower than me, peeking under my arm; good enough. Hands on the tree for balance, I peeked around its edge. </p><p>Humans, demons, and Tahēsh darted around on the ground, clashing. Tahēsh was enjoying himself, easily handling the contracted demons and the weak <em> hh’ainun vīsh.  </em></p><p>He had not noticed <em> me. </em> </p><p>
  <em> Dh'ērrenith.  </em>
</p><p>I analyzed the battlefield, Tahēsh’s movements, his magic. He was weaker than before, yes, but what my mind snagged on most strongly was his speed -- or, rather, his <em> lack </em> of speed. </p><p>Giving a savage laugh laced with the victory to come, I informed my <em> payilas, </em> “Tahēsh is slow. I will tear him into pieces.” </p><p>Her focus snapped to me. “You can’t use any magic,” she reminded me, her voice hushed. “There are too many people. You have to pretend you’re enslaved.” </p><p>I gave her a grunt of acknowledgement -- and frustration -- calculating that restriction into my plan. All I truly needed was a good window, my claws and my speed. Tahēsh wouldn’t leave his vitals unprotected; I would need to weaken him more first, make him <em> afraid. </em> </p><p>My eyes lingered on his strongest muscles, his quickest motions, his sharpest reflexes. I could disable them, one by one, until he made a mistake and let me through his defenses. It would take more time, and each second I dallied was a threat, but I could see what the humans could not: how much <em> slower </em> Tahēsh had become. </p><p>“What’s the plan?” Robin prompted quietly as the human combatants started to retreat. </p><p>“Wait,” I urged her, the scene before me as tempting as any of her cookies. “Wait for the right moment.” </p><p>I was going to savor this victory. </p><p>Seconds ticked by, my mind constantly calculating and waiting for the perfect moment. Then one of the humans shouted, “Demon magic! Get back!” </p><p>Tahēsh was preparing a <em> vīsh, </em> the runes circling him on the ground. I recognized it; that spell, when it burst, would kill anyone nearby -- except the caster. Robin and I were clear of its radius, but the humans…</p><p>“Zylas!” Robin choked, alarmed. </p><p><em> Smart payilas. </em> Now was the perfect moment. </p><p>I darted forward with a strong kick, dashing across the grass and between the metal vehicles in my path. A counter-<em> vīsh </em> streaked up my arms, and with a twist, I slid back across the slick grass, disrupting Tahēsh’s spell as my hand made contact with the circle, infecting it with runes of my own. Then, leaping clear, his spell detonated, the effect severely lessened. </p><p>The humans were knocked down but unharmed, and Tahēsh roared with rage, spinning, seeking-- </p><p>I paused long enough to let him see me, to recognize his opponent, and then I sprang into action. For that split second, pleasure rushed in my veins, anticipating the blood I would shed. And then I was on him. </p><p>Though Tahēsh tried to keep up, after all of this, he could not; his eyes were dimmed, his <em> vīsh </em> weakened. I couldn’t lengthen my claws with <em> vīsh, </em> but they were already long enough to injure him, to puncture his organs, and I was strong enough to rip his limbs apart. </p><p>I took his leg first with a swipe of my claws, blood gushing from the wound, then sprang onto his back to jab each of his vital organs with my claws in a series of lightning-fast stabs. As he roared again with renewed pain and fury, I leapt back, clearing his reach. By the time he spun to face me, I was already behind him again, and with relish, I took each of his joints, one by one. </p><p>I didn’t allow myself to slow for even a split second, never giving him an opportunity to strike back. And with each splash of his blood on the ground and dripping down my hands, I felt <em> dh'ērrenith </em> approaching. I knew it, and in the back of my mind, I heard Robin recognize it, as well. I was even taking his strength, drawing the heat from his own blood into my body with each slash across his form. </p><p>It took Tahēsh a few more enraged moments before he saw it, too. Then, terror blanketing his scent, he launched upwards, using his one advantage to get clear of me. I watched for one tense second, mind racing; <em> No magic, </em> Robin cautioned fiercely, but I could see a loophole. </p><p>With a strong leap, launching up from the grass, I caught up with Tahēsh. Snagging him by his back, I dug my claws into his neck. Hidden there in his flesh, I called my <em> vīsh; </em> my claws burst through his tendons, his throat, his spine; with one savage twist, I did to him what he’d failed to do to me: I split him into two. </p><p>I called off the <em> vīsh </em> before it could be seen, then shoved off the <em> Dīnen et Lūsh'vēr’s </em> corpse, dropping back to my feet. His body thudded on the ground, his head rolling across the grass, his blood flowing from his severed arteries. </p><p>Malevolent, cruel victory filled me, pleasure and energy coursing all the way down to my fingers and toes. <em> I had done it! </em> The <em> Dīnen et Vh’alyir, </em> the weakest of the <em> Dīnen, </em> had slain a <em> Dīnen et Lūsh'vēr! </em> Tahēsh was dead -- by <em> my </em> claws! </p><p>I stared at his body as the final spurts of life faded from him, committing the image to memory. And, as I held there, I recognized something I hadn’t before: a fourth demon scent. There had been the two contracted demons and Tahēsh, but there was also...another. Faint, but close. Threatening though that was, my mind could barely focus on it. </p><p>Then, as the rush began to abate, I recalled my <em> payilas </em> and our contract. Eyes were upon me. I rose and <em> acted, </em> striding back over to her as if she’d called, each step awkward -- too precise. She was standing now, halfway edged out of her hiding place. </p><p>It was<em> zh'ūltis, </em> this act, but right now I was too pleased to care. I even gave her a wide, vicious grin, replaying the best blows of the battle in my mind, before returning to my act and facing the other witnesses. Blood still dripped from my fingers, the evidence of my greatest victory. </p><p>For one almost delirious moment, I recognized something incredible: I would never have been to accomplish this had I not lost to Tahēsh first. Robin’s <em> mistake, </em> forcing me into that fight, had forged our path to victory -- by making Tahēsh believe I was powerless against him. <em> His </em> guard had dropped, so certain that he could kill me at any time. </p><p>His pride had become his downfall. </p><p>Maybe...maybe losing a fight, yet surviving, could be another tool in my arsenal. I would have to think on it in length. </p><p>She was quiet for a long moment, eying the battle scene and the other <em> hh’ainun. </em> Then, with a steadying breath, she pulled her phone out and -- well, whatever she was doing, I was confident it was part of the act. Without allowing myself to focus on any point, I watched the group as she spoke to someone else through the phone, reporting Tahēsh’s death. </p><p>The female on the other end of the phone told her to wait. She agreed. And then, as if they’d been waiting for that exact moment, the humans began retreating. It was suspicious, their sudden desire to escape, but I hardly cared; the moment they were all gone, I could finally celebrate. </p><p>It didn’t take long. They all ran as if Tahēsh was going to get back up and finish what he’d started -- or, I thought, as if <em> I </em> were going to come for them, next. I could slaughter them all, and after witnessing my victory over Tahēsh, they knew it. </p><p>More specifically, they believed <em> Robin </em> could send her <em> enslaved </em> demon to kill them, but that was semantics at this point. </p><p>Once they were gone, the sound of their vehicles vanishing in the distance and their scents long gone, the need to celebrate burst free. I gave a hearty bellow of victory, calling, <em> “Vh'renith!” </em>and throwing my fist in the air. </p><p>Robin nearly leapt out of her skin; I barely noticed. </p><p>“I killed the <em> Dīnen et Lūsh'vēr!” </em> I called, thrumming with energy and pleasure. “I killed Tahēsh of the First House!” My joy was too much; I stalked in a circle, needing an outlet for the rush in my veins. </p><p>To Robin -- my only audience, as it were -- I spoke quickly, “That was <em> lalūdris, kirritavh’ dahgan rūs hh’istaran! </em>I will be…” </p><p>My exultation drained, reality sinking back into me. And, as the joy shifted to aggravation, I threw myself backwards on the ground with a noise of defeat. <em> No one had seen it. </em> Or, rather, no <em> demon </em> had -- no one of Ahlēavah. </p><p>Robin panicked. “Zylas? What’s wrong?” she demanded, hovering with concern. </p><p>Inwardly, I recognized that this was not her fault; outwardly, my sudden ire required a target. I glared at her. “No one will ever know,” I explained grumpily. </p><p>“Huh?” was her confused response. </p><p>“I am the first of my House to kill a Lūsh'vēr and no one will ever know!” I complained. With a frustrated exhale, I pulled myself off the cold, wet grass to turn my scowl on Tahēsh’s headless corpse. “No glory for me,” I grumbled, lamenting this fact. </p><p>Curious, Robin asked, “Glory? For killing another demon king?” </p><p><em> Var. </em> “It is the greatest victory for my kind -- to kill a <em> Dīnen,” </em> I informed her. </p><p>Squatting beside me, she asked, “Doesn’t that mean that other demons try to kill you all the time?” </p><p>I scoffed. “Of course.” None had succeeded, obviously, and none ever would. I was too smart for any of them. </p><p>Awkward, she reached out and patted my shoulder, which had to be one of the most confusing things she’d ever done. “Well,” she reasoned, <em> “you </em> know you defeated him, and that’s what’s important.” </p><p>I narrowed my gaze on her, bewildered. No one was capable of giving themselves glory -- it had to be given by others. Did she not know even this much? </p><p>I dropped it. Her mind was bizarre and I’d already known this, anyway. Then, thinking of the scent I’d noticed before, I wondered aloud, “Maybe the other witnessed my triumph.” </p><p>“The other what?” she prompted. </p><p>“The other demon.” </p><p>She blinked, confusion both on her face and in her mind. “You mean the two contracted ones?” she checked. </p><p>“No,” I denied. “There was another.” I gave another sniff of the air. “I can smell his <em> vīsh. </em> Different from Tahēsh,” I clarified in case she hadn’t put that together yet. </p><p>Her expression turned thoughtful and she glanced over at the battlefield. Her mind raced onwards, flickers reaching me. I saw it as her mind made the connection: I smelled<em> vīsh; </em> contracted demons couldn’t use <em> vīsh; </em> that meant a third demon capable of using magic had been present -- somewhere. </p><p>Helping her thoughts along, I continued, “I could smell him on Tahēsh. This other demon...he is the one who injured Tahēsh. The one Tahēsh was hunting.” I didn’t <em> smell </em> all that, of course, but rather deduced it. “He is powerful. Second or Third House.” <em> That </em> I could confirm with a sniff. </p><p>My <em> payilas </em> went quiet and still, her mind spinning. Fear eased from her form again, telling of her uncertainty. </p><p>“I did not see him,” I told her, aiming to calm her before she could devolve into hysterics. With a point, I directed her gaze, saying, “But his scent...it disappeared with them.” </p><p>The four <em> hh’ainun </em> and the red vehicle. I hadn’t paid much attention to them during the fight, but in retrospect, I built their images in my mind. Three males, one female. Two of the males were dark-haired, like my <em> payilas; </em> the other two humans had red hair. They’d smelled human enough -- except for the demon’s scent -- and I took a moment to commit their faces and scents to memory. </p><p>If I saw them again, I would know, and maybe then we could investigate this oddity. </p><p> </p><p>-- </p><p> </p><p>Back in the infernus. Back to <em> boredom. </em> But at least now I was starting to get the hang of being here. Words were becoming more clear, now that I was learning how to listen to them properly. It just took some time and experience, it seemed. I could make out <em> almost </em> everything spoken directly to Robin, and her thoughts, too, were becoming more clear, often echoing the words spoken to <em> her. </em> Together, I could actually follow conversations. </p><p>Time slid by, grating and irritating. She never went more than a few minutes before <em> another hh’ainun </em> approached her to ask the exact same questions she had already answered a dozen times before. </p><p>I was getting pictures from her now, too, able to catch glimpses of her memories. It was difficult to follow, but I caught the general procession of events: Tahēsh’s body had been cleaned. Numerous humans were milling about, hiding the evidence of his death. And Robin, the entire time, grew more tense, more nervous, more afraid. </p><p>She was afraid we’d be discovered. This was the MPD, the very organization she feared. And, given what she’d told me of them, I was resistant to the idea of showing myself to them. Would they be able to recognize my act? They were dangerous; I wanted nothing to do with them, and I wanted my <em> payilas </em> nowhere near them. </p><p>I urged her to leave every few minutes. She didn’t seem to hear me; it appeared our connection was one-way. </p><p>That was...annoying. </p><p>Eventually, something different happened. A man approached; Robin recognized him. They spoke, but not of Tahēsh or the battle. They spoke of the <em> hh’ainun </em> who had cornered us days before, and of the one who had thrown a spell at her. </p><p><em> “Is there any reason someone might be stalking you?” </em> the male asked; I heard it both through the infernus and her own mind. </p><p>She lied. “N-no. I can’t think of anything.” </p><p>We both knew the true answer to that: <em> me. </em> I was the reason someone was stalking her. And, I thought, now that Tahēsh had been defeated and she could begin researching in earnest, that gave me the time and freedom to finish what I’d started in the library. </p><p>Two more deserved my claws, I reminded myself. Maybe four, I amended, thinking of the unknown scents from the alley; if they were allied with Travis, they were targets by association. If they came for me or my <em> payilas, </em> my claws would learn their flesh. </p><p>They would bleed. </p><p><em> “Be careful, Robin,” </em> the <em> hh’ainun </em> continued. <em> “The demon is dead, but I’m not sure this is over yet.” </em> </p><p>It wasn’t, I thought, a new viciousness coiling in me. I still had work to do before Robin was safe. The greatest threat was dead, but more remained in the darkness. </p><p>I will relish the hunt. </p><p>She was leaving now, I noticed. Her limbs edged away at first, wary, and then she was striding away. Perking up, I followed her thoughts, waiting. I was still bursting with energy from my victory against Tahēsh and I wanted out of the <em> ka’an imailatē </em> so I could work off some of it. When would she be alone again? </p><p>Her mind was spinning again, her thoughts cascading. So many thoughts all the time, I mused, impressed. Very <em> ahktallis, </em> even if her intelligence was only used in <em> knowing </em> things and not <em> using </em> her knowledge. </p><p><em> Finally! </em> Her thoughts settled on her isolation and I took the opportunity at once, manifesting by her side. </p><p>She narrowed her eyes on me. “Were you listening inside my head again?” she said, voice hard. </p><p>“What else is there in the infernus?” I retorted, knowing she couldn’t answer that because she’d never been inside it. </p><p>“I told you not to do that!” she blurted, annoyed. “I also told you not to pop out whenever you feel like it.” She scanned the street, then, saying, “You’re lucky there’s no one nearby.” </p><p>Lucky? I was trusting her to be honest in her thoughts, in fact. She should feel more blessed by that. A demon’s trust wasn’t easily earned, after all, and I, personally, had never given it. If she weren’t so small and helpless, I wouldn’t have given her any of my trust, either. </p><p>“Where are you going?” I asked, changing the subject. </p><p>“To the Grand Grimoire,” she answered, falling back into step and, it seemed, allowing me my freedom without further complaint. “The guild is a few blocks down this street. I’m supposed to see the GM.” </p><p>I watched her for a moment, debating whether that was a good idea, then caught up to her. She glanced at me sideways, and her mood lifted to amusement. </p><p>“Still feeling good about defeating Tahēsh?” she teased, eying my gait. </p><p>My own mood was too high to be annoyed by that. I gave her a smirk. “You do not understand,” I said, graciously willing to explain. “He is First House. I am Twelfth House. The best I have killed before is Fifth House.” </p><p>“Is that what demons do all day?” she wondered. “Plot how to kill each other?” </p><p>I considered that, though I hardly had any other demon’s perspective on the subject. <em> “Hnn. </em> Yes, mostly,” I concluded. Then, amending my statement, I added, “Males do.” </p><p>Her curiosity increased. “What do female demons do?” </p><p>“They eat and drink and lounge and raise young. And kill males,” I allowed. The truth was the truth, after all. </p><p>Males killed males near-constantly, but female demons were better at it -- and enjoyed it more. They didn’t kill for the glory of it -- there was no glory for killing the weak, after all, and females easily overpowered males in that respect -- but rather for the fun of it. </p><p>That amused my <em> payilas, </em> and she laughed. “The females kill males?” she checked. “Do males kill them too?” </p><p>“No,” I denied at once, horrified by the concept. “I have never tried to kill a female. I would die.” </p><p>That confused her. “You would?” she asked, doubtful. </p><p>I wondered if she more disbelieved that females were so strong or believed I was stronger than I was. I preferred the latter, but from what I’d seen of <em> hh’ainun </em> society, their females were weaker than the males in <em> all </em> respects. How did they defend themselves, I wondered? </p><p>“Females are stronger,” I informed her. “Their magic is…” How best to explain this? I gestured wide, pantomiming a greater size. “Much greater. We do not fight them. We fight each other.” Females were so much more powerful than males, in fact, that we hardly considered each other the same kind. </p><p>“Wait, wait,” Robin said, still disbelieving. “Female demons are stronger than male demons?” </p><p>“In <em> vīsh,” </em> I clarified. “We are bigger, though.” </p><p>“Even you?” she challenged. </p><p>I bared my teeth, wordlessly letting her know what I thought of <em> that </em> comment. Changing the subject now that this one was no longer fun, I demanded, “Now that Tahēsh is dead, you will find the way I can return home?” </p><p>“Yes,” she confirmed. “I’ll start first thing tomorrow. I already made a list of sources. But this won’t be quick,” she warned me. “I can’t find answers in a few days.” </p><p>I knew <em> that. </em> “If you are searching, I will wait,” I promised. </p><p>She nodded, accepting that. Then, attention diverted, she began, “I’ve been thinking. My mother had a special grimoire about demon summoning -- or I think it’s about Demonica. She protected it for years, but now Uncle Jack has it. I’m pretty sure he used it to summon you and Tahēsh.” </p><p><em> “Na?” </em> I murmured, turning that over in my mind. So books -- special ones, it seemed -- carried the information on how to do these summonings? And she believed this was important to her search? I recalled a mention of her <em> inheritance </em> being kept by Jack; was this grimoire the object she sought? </p><p>“All <em> Dīnen </em> fear being taken by the <em> hh’ainun,” </em> I said, trying to work out the logistics of it. “Any moment they can turn to light and vanish. Some come back after a short time, some after a long time. Many never return. All Houses fear this...except the First House and the Twelfth House,” I hinted, checking to see what her reaction would be. </p><p>Her stride slowed, intrigued. “What do you mean?” </p><p>Watching her closely, I explained, “In some Houses, each <em> Dīnen </em> is taken almost as soon as he claims his title. In others, not as fast. In the First House, almost never. In my House,” I continued carefully, “we are never taken. The others hate us because we are safe from <em> hh’ainun.” </em> Stopping, my gaze flickered over her, looking for any sign of understanding. “Until me,” I prompted her. “I was taken, but I do not know why.” </p><p>She <em> understood. </em> </p><p>“It’s not your fault,” she assured me. “It’s because Uncle Jack got my mother’s grimoire. It had your House name in it. Humans can’t summon demons from a House without its name.” </p><p>I tried not to feel betrayed. She was ignorant of many things, I reminded myself. She knew almost nothing about demons and Ahlēavah. Just because she knew my House name was in the book did not mean she knew anything else. </p><p>She knew more than I’d expected, though, and this information burned in my mind, demanding investigation. “Why did your mother have my House name?” I demanded -- cautiously. She shared information more freely when I asked, I’d learned. As long as I didn’t try to <em> force </em> her to answer, she would. </p><p>Usually. </p><p>Her face fell, her eyes darkening with sorrow. “I don’t know,” she answered. </p><p>Disappointment crashed into me. She was being honest. She didn’t know this -- but, I thought, if she could retrieve this grimoire, maybe the answer would be within. She was truthful, I assured myself; she would tell me this much. I <em> almost </em> trusted her to do so. </p><p>She kicked back into motion, continuing her walk. “Anyway,” she added more quietly, “I think the grimoire has important information about summoning that could help send you home. We need to get it back from my uncle.” </p><p>From what I understood, whether or not the book had <em> answers </em> came second to her attachment to it. “Is it something you need?” I checked as I kept up with her. “Or do you want it because it is yours and not his?” </p><p>My question surprised her; her reaction was telling, straightening a little and inhaling in shock. Then, gaze dropping to the ground, she answered, “I want it because it’s mine. But it might also help with my research.” </p><p>The fact that she admitted this was...pleasant, I thought. She could’ve avoided answering my question directly, could have evaded and avoided doing so, could have attempted to fool me -- but she hadn’t. She was genuine, I was learning. Not merely honest, but open about it, too. </p><p>That was dangerous and <em> zh'ūltis, </em> but...fitting, at the same time. It fit her. </p><p>Thoughtful, eying her as the curiosity she was, I said, “I will help you.” </p><p>Surprised again, her eyes shot up, meeting mine. “You will?” </p><p><em> Var. </em> “If he used this grimoire to take me,” I worked out, “I will help you get it back -- and you will purge my name from it so my House cannot be taken again.” After all, if my House name was in only this one book, then once it was erased, my House would forever be safe from summoning. </p><p>Her expression dropped, disappointed. “Oh. I thought you were offering just to be nice,” she mumbled. </p><p>“Nice?” I echoed, amused despite the subject. <em> “Ch. </em> ‘Nice’ is for stupid <em> hh’ainun,” </em> I declared. </p><p>Her emotions filtered over to me again, irritation rising in her. “There are benefits to doing nice things for people, you know,” she informed me brusquely as her steps took her around a corner. </p><p><em> “Zh'ūltis,” </em>I denied. </p><p>“There are!” she shot back sharply. “They’ll do nice things for you in return, things you might not think to ask for. It builds trust and comradery and--” </p><p>“How is that useful?” I interrupted, smirking behind her back. I was starting to enjoy her anger more than her fear. </p><p>Being difficult with her was a lot of fun. </p><p>She turned a scowl at me as her feet carried her around another corner, snapping, “You, selfish demon, are completely ignorant about a whole lot of ‘stupid human’ things.” </p><p>Now she was just inviting mockery. “If they’re <em> stupid things,” </em> I pointed out, amused, “why do I need to know them?” </p><p>She fumed. “I mean you think they’re stupid when they’re actually--” </p><p>Reaching out, I dropped my hand to her hair, giving a slight push -- not enough to hurt her, but enough to rile her further. “Small and weak <em> and </em> stupid, <em> payilas,” </em> I teased her mercilessly. </p><p>“Stop calling me stupid!” she snapped, trying to smack my hand away. “And let me go!” </p><p>I started, “I will if you--” </p><p>A scent reached me and I jerked back to awareness, realizing too late that I’d allowed my guard to drop. It’d been so much fun, teasing her, that I hadn’t been paying attention to the world around me, and now I recognized <em>hh’ainun</em> scents. Worse, I recognized a <em>specific</em> <em>hh’ainun</em> scent. </p><p>I snagged Robin’s arm, halting her, my gaze latching onto the intruder. </p><p>The bald human who’d teased her so much when we’d first entered the Grand Grimoire. Todd, his name was. He was standing nearby, in easy sight -- in <em> earshot. </em> And he was staring back, mouth open, shock painted across his features. </p><p><em> You can’t let anyone see you or hear you. </em> </p><p>This human had both seen and heard me. </p><p><em> Protect. </em> </p><p>The male worked through his stun first, pulling out his infernus. My mind tore through the distance between us; I wouldn’t be able to make it there before he made any sound, but if he focused on the infernus -- on his contracted demon -- he wouldn’t think to speak. I had my chance. </p><p>As the demon was summoned from the infernus, I launched towards them, the road sloping downwards and making it all the easier to reach them. I faked going for the demon, summoning my claws, my mind seized on the threat. The demon swung, as slowly as I’d expected, and I dashed under the blow, my claws aiming for Todd. </p><p>“No!” Robin shrieked, horrified. </p><p>Blood sprayed. Todd’s body collapsed, his throat missing, blood pouring from his gaping wound. </p><p>The demon recovered slowly, and then he turned to me. I pivoted to look back, past him, to my <em> payilas. </em> </p><p>Her face was frozen in horror and disbelief. By now I understood. She didn’t like killing. It didn’t sit well with her, and regardless of how stupid that stance was, I knew I couldn’t convince her otherwise. I would do what I had to do to maintain our act, no matter how she felt about it. </p><p>I would do what had to be done. </p><p><em> “Gh’athirilnā nul thē,” </em> the former <em> Dīnen </em>grumbled to me. </p><p>My attention swung to him, and I scowled. <em> “Ait eshilthē adahk Ivaknen īn idintav et Vh’alyir,” </em> I returned. </p><p>He disappeared into light, coalescing in his former master’s body, and then the red glow faded. He was going home. Yearning speared me; if only it would be so easy for me to go back… </p><p>Finally, my <em> payilas </em> reacted, approaching with ginger, wobbling steps. I could feel her shock still, could smell her horror clouding around her. Her eyes never left Todd’s dead body, as if still unable to grasp what had happened. </p><p><em> I have obeyed our terms, </em> I thought again, though I held my tongue for now. I wasn’t sure how she’d react right now. </p><p>Breathless, she whispered, “You killed him.” </p><p>Of course I did. He’d seen me. If he’d lived, he would have reported it, and then we’d both have been executed, as she’d warned. </p><p>Now he couldn’t report anything. </p><p>Her emotions spiraled, her voice raised to a scream. “You killed him!” she repeated, her breathing turning harsh and inconsistent. Struggling, she choked, “He didn’t do anything wrong! He was scared and -- and he was only -- <em> you killed him!” </em> she accused. </p><p>My tail lashed, agitation rising. “You said no one can know I am not enslaved,” I pointed out, calmly. “I am protecting you.” It was a very simple, very easy equation. </p><p>“No!” she denied vehemently, grabbing her hair. “No, this is wrong! You killed an innocent man!” </p><p>So? “You said--” </p><p>“I didn’t say to kill people!” she interrupted, her voice going shrill. “Get back in the infernus! Right now!” she ordered. </p><p>Her rejection burned. I’d been protecting her! But her inability to grasp this simple concept was infuriating; for once, I was fine with staying in the infernus. It meant I had to look at her less. </p><p>
  <em> Kish lēvh! </em>
</p><p>My body vanished into the <em> imailatē </em>and I blocked her out. I hadn’t even known I could do it, but somehow I managed to block her out. I felt nothing now, not her motions nor her thoughts or feelings. </p><p>To my irritation, it felt <em> wrong </em> to do so. But I resented her rejection of my efforts, so much so that I wanted nothing to do with her. Not for now, anyway. Maybe later, after she’s had time to calm down and accept that I’d protected the <em> both </em> of us with one pointless <em> hh’ainun </em> death, I would come back out and talk to her. </p><p>We needed to cooperate. That was a fact. And that meant she had to trust me, had to trust that I only killed out of necessity. I wasn’t going to go on rampages the way Tahēsh had done. The more I killed, the more attention I’d accumulate; I knew this. Every death at my claws was another clue that could be led back to us. Thus, I didn’t kill easily. </p><p>I just had to make her understand this. </p><p>...Later, I decided. For now, she could ruminate in her own stupidity. I’ll educate her after. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Book 1, Chapter 25-27</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Time slogged by. In the infernus, it felt endless. It took effort to keep my mind focused enough to remain aware of the time by any degree. And for a while, I didn’t bother; for a while, I slept, letting the emptiness of the infernus take me. </p><p>A part of me was waiting for Robin to inevitably call me back out. I hated it here, yes, but the bitter part of me wanted <em> her </em> to break first. She would call me before I came out of my own volition, I decided. And when I did, I had a planned speech ready. </p><p>She would understand, at long last, that any deaths at my claws were necessary to protect her. She <em> would. </em> I would allow no other result. And though it grated on me to even have to <em> talk </em> through this, for our unique situation I saw no other option. I would talk, she would listen, she would agree; that’s what would happen. </p><p>...As soon as she called me. </p><p>…</p><p>But it was so <em> boring! </em> I growled in frustration in the endless expanse around me, still humming with energy and aggravated all the worse at having to stay <em> here </em> instead of in the room. I preferred that, preferred being in my physical form. I preferred <em> anything </em> over this. </p><p>For a while the boredom got so wearisome I started chanting stupid, childish rhymes I’d learned from the <em> pashir, </em> just because it was something to do, something to hear. It was soundless and groundless and frustrating in here; my voice didn’t carry and that just made it even more odd. </p><p>Huffing, at long last I decided to let my block down. If I could just hear something from Robin, get some measure of where she was at, mentally--</p><p>There was nothing. </p><p>Confused and alarmed, I focused, wondering if I’d done something wrong. Had I blocked her out so vehemently that I couldn’t remove it? No, I decided; there was no way. The infernus was designed for me to hear her thoughts, her intentions; how else would any human control their contracted demon? But if that was so, then why was I hearing <em> nothing? </em> </p><p>Was she hiding her thoughts from <em> me? </em> Impossible -- if she could do that, she would’ve done so already. She hated that I could hear into her mind. </p><p>Concern rose, urgency changing my plans. I forced myself from the infernus--</p><p>Was this a <em> drawer? </em> She’d thrown the infernus in a <em> drawer?! </em> No -- she’d thrown <em> me </em> in a drawer!! </p><p>Aggravated worse, I forced my spirit through it, forming on the ground as I got my bearings, angrily calling for her...and receiving no answer. This was the motel room, but something twisted in me as I realized I was alone here. Where was Robin? Where was my <em> payilas? </em> </p><p>Twisting, I headed for the bathroom, the only other place I could think for her to be, but the door was open and the light was off. No sound, no fresh scents. Her scent, in fact, was distant -- old. She’d left? </p><p>Anger settled in me all over again. She’d left me alone! </p><p>Then, beyond the anger, fear rose. She’d <em> left </em> me, I realized with a sinking feeling. She was a contractor with an illegal demon, and now she was without even my protection. Such a helpless female as she was, if she was cornered or attacked anywhere, she’d be defenseless. </p><p>I ripped open the drawer, snatched the infernus from it, and hooked it around my belt in sharp gestures. I had to find her. </p><p>It was daytime, I found as I peeked through the window. Overcast, but daytime. How long had she been gone? How far had she gotten? <em> Had </em>she gotten far? Was she running from me and our contract? Had she gone to turn herself in after Todd’s death, folding under her misplaced sense of responsibility? </p><p>Tension raced through my muscles. Wherever she was now, I had the very distinct feeling I was going to be killing a lot of humans before I got her back. </p><p>Best to get started, then. </p><p> </p><p>--</p><p> </p><p>Being the best stealth-hunter alive had its advantages. I knew so many <em> vīsh, </em> so many ways to stay unseen, so many tricks to hide my presence. Stepping from building to building, I followed Robin’s faint scent, keeping my senses aware of the <em> hh’ainun </em> milling about. Luckily, this part of the city was rarely heavily trafficked, and today the sun was not shining. Most of them chose to remain indoors. I just kept my ears trained for the rumble of a vehicle or step of a human, keeping out of sight when they were near. </p><p>Easy. </p><p>Her scent led to the guild first; I was reminded that the GM had wanted to see her. So she’d gone to him, then? But her scent left as well, and this had a pit of ice forming in my gut. </p><p>Her scent was saturated in others’, and I caught Travis’s among them. </p><p>It was harder to track her scent, then. It all but vanished, hidden by the others. The trick then became determining which new scent to follow. It wasn’t easy; sometimes I had to dart into the street for a lead, having to wait for the humans to be out of sight for that brief moment. </p><p>More and more, her scent led towards the water. What worried me most, as I continued, was the lack of fear tinting her scent. She was so easily scared, there was no way she couldn’t be afraid. Even if she was going willingly with Travis, <em> something </em> would be frightening her. It was her nature. </p><p>The fact that she didn’t smell of fear...she must not even be conscious, I deduced. </p><p>Had they knocked her out? Had they killed her? No, I denied; I scented none of her blood, and besides, the contract would be broken if she died. I would know. She lived. </p><p>Whoever took her would not, I decided fiercely. </p><p>The mass of scents tangled together at the edge of the water, and there I recognized both Travis and Amalia’s scents. They were all here, somewhere. Following their trails, I located a wide expanse of concrete covered in large containers. From a hidden perch on a nearby roof, I watched and listened. I knew Robin was there, somewhere. This close, I could feel her thoughts again, though the lack of coherency and emotion I was feeling through our bond was worrisome. </p><p>Was she hurt? If she was hurt, I was going to murder the <em> hh’ainun </em> with just a bit more savagery. </p><p>First, though, I had to know where she was. I couldn’t risk drawing attention before I knew what sort of situation she was in. Her thoughts offered no clues; I could only guess that a spell had been used to suppress her mind. There was no way she could ever be this quiet otherwise. </p><p>I surveyed the area closely, counting. Twenty-two <em> hh’ainun. </em> Some wandered, but most remained clustered in small groups, talking. Their voices were too quiet to reach me from my distance, granting me no insight into the situation. The best I could do was <em> feel, </em> desperately, trying to identify where she was. </p><p>Then, at last, I caught her scent on the breeze, fresh. My eyes snapped from spot to spot before snagging on the violet sweater she wore, recognizing her. A container that had been closed before was now open. Her hands weren’t bound, but she was being guided, her steps sluggish and uncoordinated. Travis and Amalia were with her, and Amalia was clearly not a willing participant, either. They’d both been captured. </p><p><em> I need her help to survive this, </em> Robin had said. </p><p>I made a mental note to save Amalia if I could. </p><p>I jumped, skipping across the buildings nearby, following the way the females were being led. A water vehicle sat off the edge of the ground, their destination. Dropping to a low crouch, I summoned <em> vīsh, </em> envisioning the runes I needed. Twenty-four enemies, counting the two that had exited the container with the females, plus Travis. I would need to send them panicking, confused, or I’d never get to my <em> payilas </em> before they killed her. </p><p>They clearly intended to escape by the water vehicle, so that was my first target. </p><p>I launched my <em> vīsh </em>with a sweep of my arm, condensed into an unseen dart of energy, careening towards the white vehicle. With a thunderous explosion, it collided, and fire billowed into the sky, the magic briefly making the fire burn bigger. As their attention turned to the blaze, the humans startled and alarmed, I leapt down, landing on a male; his bones snapped under my feet with an agonized cry, crushed into the ground; I slashed across his throat for good measure, then took off in a sprint. </p><p><em> Vīsh </em> collected in my hands, my claws growing longer and stronger, and I thrust them through another human’s gut; he howled in agony, drawing gazes; I whipped my claws across his neck, ending his torment. </p><p>Then I was moving again. Two down; twenty-two to go. </p><p>“Demon!” a male shrieked, terror lacing his voice. </p><p>Fear saturated the air. With controlled motions, I executed my plan, keeping the humans never sure where I would strike next. More demons appeared, but in the summoning, the humans left themselves open. They took precious seconds gaining control. </p><p>I slid to a stop behind one and, with one jump and a twist of my hands, snapped his neck. His body made a convenient perch for a split second, long enough to leap from him to another, and my claws raked this one’s throat out, too. He crumpled to the ground, gagging on his blood; I stepped off, my focus snapping to Robin. </p><p>A sword angled towards me; I ducked it, my position finally close enough to reach my <em> payilas. </em> I could feel my own eyes blazing with intent as I leapt for her, zipping across the distance between us. The male holding her widened his eyes as he saw me coming, reaching for his sword; my claws sank into his heart as I collided with the both of them, my free arm clutching my precious <em> payilas </em> to my chest. </p><p>The momentum had us spinning, but with a whip of my tail, I righted us, landing on my feet. Once I got her away from the others, I would return to finish what I had started; I dashed for the street. </p><p><em> “Ori impello potissime!” </em> </p><p>I didn’t know who’d said it, but the incantation impacted us with surprising force, sending us spinning again. My grip, already slippery with human blood, failed to maintain its grip and Robin flung from me. She landed heavily; I twisted back to my feet, giving her a quick glance. No blood in the air, and she was pushing herself up on her own. </p><p>Satisfied, I zeroed in on the one who’d called out the <em> vīsh, </em> two demons charging right for me. With another twist, I slid legs-first under one, then leapt, my claws making short work of another contractor. Blood cascaded through the air; his demon vanished. </p><p>I dove for the next. </p><p>Another scream rent the air, then another and another, the <em> hh’ainun </em> failing to keep up with my speed. It was fun, skidding between them, bathing my claws in their hot blood, soaking up their heat and rending their bodies. With a swipe of my claws, one male’s bowels tumbled from his belly; with another, his heart was no longer in his chest; with a third, his spine was severed at the back of his neck. One by one, they crumpled, lifeless. </p><p>I never lost sight of Robin, but I was still caught unaware when Travis -- the <em> hh’ainun nailēris </em>-- snatched her, holding a blade to her neck and wrenching her head back by her hair. Her surprised, agonized cry echoed through me, snapping my gaze to her. </p><p>“Stop or I’ll kill her!” he shouted, his voice quavering. </p><p>I sent him a killing look as my hands finished with the <em> hh’ainun </em> I was currently crouched upon, his neck snapping with a wrench of my fingers. Then I pushed off him, his body collapsing, and his demon vanished along with the others. </p><p>Crouched on the ground, I watched Travis with steady eyes. Robin was unharmed so far, and I doubted <em> he </em> would be the one to harm her, but I wasn’t willing to risk that. That was my <em> payilas, </em> and she was the only <em> hh’ainun </em> in this world whose presence I was willing to suffer. </p><p>I would kill so many more <em> hh’ainun </em> than this to keep her. </p><p>All activity stopped as I did, my mind racing with plans. She was too far away; I couldn’t reach her before she was cut. But, I was starting to realize, I wasn’t being compelled, despite the tense situation. I wasn’t being <em> forced </em> to stop. It was a choice. I was <em> choosing </em> to hold and wait. </p><p>That meant I could act the instant I chose to -- the instant I <em> needed </em> to. </p><p>But first I needed a plan. </p><p>Malevolence was displayed in every inch of me, and this was as much intentional as it was involuntary. I snarled at the humans, waiting, poised. I could kill all of them within another ten seconds, but Robin didn’t have that much time to spare -- and, I realized too late, by stopping, I’d revealed to them my weakness. </p><p><em> Her. </em> </p><p>Whether he was too tense or trying to prove himself, Travis held her just a little tighter, and her face pinched with pain as her blood flowed for the first time, the blade cutting into her soft flesh. I gave a quiet, savage hiss, a warning. </p><p>Her emotions were spiraling again, her thoughts racing; whatever had been holding her mind back before, it was over, now. And she was conflicted. Her eyes clung to me, helpless all over again, desperate for my protection. </p><p>“Why did the demon stop?” a male checked, edging closer to the pair, suspicious. I recognized him as the leader from the library, the one who’d ordered the others. The one who’d gotten away. </p><p><em> Karlson, </em> Robin’s mind identified him. </p><p>Seeming just as surprised as the other male, Travis answered, panting, “Her contract requires that the demon protect her. If it moves, I’ll kill her, so it can’t do anything.” </p><p>A cold wind raced through me. He believed this, so he was serious, I concluded. He believed I was being compelled, and that I wouldn’t be if he weren’t truly willing to kill her. He would slit her throat if I moved. But how did he even know that? Who had told him? The only ones who knew were myself, Robin, and Amalia--</p><p>Robin’s gaze flicked to Amalia. I didn’t allow my eyes to shift, but it answered my question. Amalia had told him, and now he’d told the others. Amalia was a threat, after all. <em> Can’t trust her. </em> </p><p>Karlson, growing bold, stepped up to the pair, and my shoulders tensed, ready to pounce if he so much as <em> attempted </em> to reach for her. We were too far apart to get to her before she could be slain, but that wouldn’t stop me from trying -- nor would it stay my claws. </p><p>But the man halted by her and appraised <em> me, </em> instead, sizing me up. He looked at me like a tool, his mind working behind his eyes, thoughtful. At length, he spoke. </p><p>“Well, this makes things easier,” he said. “We can proceed immediately with the contract substitution.” </p><p>The contract -- <em> what? </em> Was his plan to try to contract me, instead of her? A transfer? I cautioned myself to keep holding still, a sudden thought giving me the perfect plan. </p><p>They believed I was held by the contract. As long as I didn’t move, they would continue to relax. Then, when I had my chance, I would finish what I’d started. I only needed to be patient -- and, I thought, Robin needed to not do anything foolish. </p><p>Turning his attention away -- taking his eyes off <em> me </em> -- the male called, “Leonard, are you ready to take on this demon?” </p><p><em> No one </em> was ready for <em> me, </em> I thought viciously. </p><p>“Leonard” stepped forward from the crowd, his belief in my placation making him bold. He grinned, pleased. “I’m more than ready,” he answered, gaze sweeping over my held form. “This fiend may be small, but with speed like that, the possibilities are endless.” </p><p>Karlson commented, “A perfect assassin. Demon,” he said to me, “you will submit to a new contract with Leonard, and whatever terms we stipulate, or the girl will die.” </p><p>My fury eclipsed what I thought I was capable of feeling. Threatening my <em> payilas, </em> ordering me, saying I will <em> submit </em> -- they had no idea what kind of <em> fiend </em> I truly was. I drew in the warmth of the air from around me with dark intent, the area becoming so cold the wetness under me began freezing to ice. A low, quiet snarl hissed through my teeth; no one heard it. </p><p><em> I will show you how much of a </em> fiend <em> I can be. </em></p><p>Robin shook, horror blanketing her mind and scent. And, somehow, I had the distinct feeling she wasn’t afraid for <em> herself </em> -- she was afraid for <em> me. </em> My mind reeled with this knowledge, but I forced it aside, keeping focused on the <em> hh’ainun </em> around me. I didn’t have my chance -- not yet. </p><p><em> Patience. </em> They were still watching me too closely, still not relaxed enough. </p><p>Karlson turned his attention to my <em> payilas. </em> “Robin Page,” he started, firm, “you will give up your contract with this demon.” </p><p>Her gaze held mine. <em> They won’t kill me, </em> her thoughts reached me. <em> They want you and they think I promised you my soul. </em> </p><p>My focus on her sharpened. I didn’t trust that they wouldn’t simply slit her throat if I moved, but she’d given me vital information nonetheless. If they think I’ll just take her soul and vanish if she died, they were likely to hold off on killing her until this transfer was complete. It would afford me, at the least, precious seconds of time. </p><p>I only needed a few of them. </p><p>Then, despite the terror wracking her body and mind, she breathed, “No.” </p><p>Karlson shifted, shocked. “What did you say?” he demanded. </p><p>With a swallow, she repeated, “No. I won’t give you my contract.” </p><p>“You don’t have a choice,” he told her, harsh. </p><p>Her mind whirled again, and in her eyes, I saw a promise: <em> I’ll never let them take you. </em> Though she didn’t <em> think </em> the words, I <em> felt </em> them. </p><p>My own emotions burned hotter. Did she have any idea what she was doing to me with this steadfast devotion, this display of absolute faith? She was trying to protect <em> me, </em> I realized, and it was the single most powerful moment of my life. </p><p>Whether she was just possessive of me or genuinely concerned, I didn’t know and didn’t care. She didn’t treat me like a tool, didn’t refer to me as an object, had made promises and deals instead of demands -- she was <em> perfect. </em> I wouldn’t let anyone kill her. She was <em> my </em> human, my... <em> payilas.  </em></p><p>Behind her, Travis’s lips moved, urging her in a whisper. “Robin, just give up the demon. You didn’t even want this contract. You can go back to your normal life.” </p><p>My breath caught, pinpoint focused on her reaction; would she give me up for <em> that? </em> </p><p>She set her jaw, refusing to respond. </p><p>Dark, hot loyalty blazed in me. I never would’ve guessed I could feel this determined, but then, I’d also never had anyone show me devotion before -- let alone this level of it. </p><p>Frustrated, Karlson gave a blunt, heavy exhale. “It won’t take much to break her,” he said, almost casually. “Leonard?” </p><p>“Yeah, boss?” Leonard perked up. </p><p>“Start slow,” the male directed. “Keep the blood to a minimum.” </p><p><em> Make her bleed and I will make you scream for every drop. </em> </p><p>Leonard approached her, my helpless, precious <em> payilas. </em> Though I was tense, I held. I couldn’t chance her life. I had to wait for <em> dh'ērrenith, </em> and now was not it. Whatever he did, I consoled myself, I could heal it. However she hurt, I could fix it. I just had to wait for the right moment. </p><p>With deliberate slowness, the male took her outstretched hand, at first giving delicate strokes. Then, smiling, he took her little finger between his and bent it backwards, letting her feel every ounce of pain as it was pulled beyond its range. </p><p>She twitched under the pain, spasming, and when it popped free of the joint, she screamed. </p><p>A savage hiss rasped through my teeth, my tail giving a sharp, angry sweep before I forced myself to hold still again. </p><p>Karlson watched me, then looked back at her. “Give up the demon,” he repeated. </p><p>Though she was vibrating with pain, she choked out, “No.” </p><p>It was baffling. This wasn’t the first time she’d been harmed for knowing me, but unlike the time in the library, now she was <em> choosing </em> to stand by me. She was <em> choosing </em> to endure this -- for me. She was suffering...for me. It had a ferocity rising in me that I’d never felt before. </p><p>At this point, I would’ve killed these beings for her on principle, alone. </p><p>Leonard <em> almost </em> seemed to take pity on her. “This is just a warmup, girl,” he told her. “It’ll only get worse.” </p><p>She said nothing, her eyes still holding mine. She was really going to just endure this until I had my opening, I realized. To my disbelief, my chest managed to heat further, a phantom warmth banking there that was yet as empowering as real fire. </p><p>Leonard moved on to her next finger, and she screamed in anticipation of the pain before it snapped out of place. </p><p>My plan shifted. This entire time I’d been focused on reaching her <em> before </em> she could be harmed, but what if I allowed her to be harmed, then healed her? If I was quick enough-- </p><p>Somewhere behind her, I recognized the shape of the container she’d exited. It was still open. </p><p>A furious plan began to align. </p><p>“Give up the demon and we’ll let you go,” Karlson prompted her. </p><p>She gasped, “No.” </p><p>A third finger followed the first two. She started crying, tears dripping down her face. It twisted in my gut, that sound, and it took everything in me not to spring forward. <em> Dh'ērrenith, </em> I reminded myself fiercely. <em> Patience…  </em></p><p>The blade pulled a fraction further from her bleeding neck. <em> Closer, now. </em> </p><p>“Give up the demon,” Karlson said again, frustrated. </p><p>With strength I hadn’t known she possessed, she screamed, <em> “No!” </em> </p><p>A flicker of her thoughts reached me: <em> I can’t betray him. </em> </p><p>My mind <em> rocked, </em> determination filling me. I would save her, whatever it took, whatever it cost me. Not because of any contracts, but because I would rather keep this bizarre, devoted creature in my life. I would never let her go. </p><p>Leonard reached for her fourth finger. </p><p>Though her gaze was watery, it was still steady. Her thoughts blazed clearer than they’d ever been: <em> Kill them all. The first chance you get. </em> </p><p>Her vicious directive, so different from her usual withdrawn, hesitant self, solidified my plan. My tail swept across the ground, the last warning I would give any of these soon-to-be corpses, and I could <em> feel </em> our connection through the infernus strengthening. It was time. Picturing <em> vīsh </em>in my mind, preparing, I waited one more second, my power blazing across my hands. </p><p>Her fourth finger was wrenched back. She screamed. My heart gave one harsh beat, and then I moved. </p><p>I shot from my crouch, each step eating up more distance than the last. The space between us rapidly closed. </p><p>Travis yelled, “Stop! Stop or--” </p><p>Karlson threw his hand out, jabbing Travis’s blade into Robin’s neck, the metal slicking through her flesh without resistance. </p><p>My <em> vīsh </em> raced higher up my arms, and then I was there. As I collided with her, my spell exploded, the shockwave sending them all floundering. Only my <em> payilas, </em> safe in my hands, was unaffected; I clutched her to my chest and dove through the humans to the container I’d identified. They tried to recover, hurling incantations, but I was too quick. </p><p>I yanked the door closed with one hand, another <em> vīsh </em> empowering it from the inside, then shoved her down, urgency making my movements harsher than I’d intended. Kneeling over her, my hands closed over her neck, staunching the bleeding as I pictured the <em> vīsh </em>I needed to heal her. </p><p>“Hold on, <em> payilas,” </em> I ordered on a breath, tension snaking through me at the idea that I might be too late. </p><p>She didn’t move, her eyes unfocused. Not a good sign, but as I began chanting, the container filling with the light of my magic, I told myself she was just stunned. </p><p>Her heart was thundering away. She was alive. But with each pulse came another gush of blood, my hands unable to completely halt the flow. Focusing, I didn’t allow anything to distract from the words, from the runes, from my <em> vīsh. </em> </p><p>As the incantation finished, pain made her back arch and her limbs spasm, jostling my hold; I flattened myself on top of her, holding her down. She couldn’t breathe under my grip, but somehow she found the strength to scream. </p><p>I watched her, tense, scared, angry, fascinated -- all and more. And then it ended and she slumped, gasping for air; I slowly loosened my grip, bracing onto my elbows and peering at her throat. The bleeding had stopped. I’d healed her. <em> She had survived. </em> </p><p>She reached over to touch her neck, finding the tiny scar left behind. A different kind of anger boiled inside me as I recognized that these <em> hh’ainun </em> had forever marred her soft, delicate flesh. </p><p>Her mind slipped open again and her thoughts revealed themselves to me. <em> He’d thought killing me would stop Zylas, </em> her thoughts whispered through my mind, and even in her thoughts, she said my name wrong. <em> That my death, and the Banishment Clause, would save them from Zylas’s wrath. </em> </p><p>Relief turned to rage inside me. </p><p>With barely-leashed fury, I answered, “They will not survive my wrath.” </p><p>Still dazed, she retorted, “I told you to stay out of my head.” </p><p>A brief smile turned my lips, pleased to hear her pique after all this. Then, as an impact bashed into the metal container, jarring us both back to the present, she turned her eyes to the sound. She caught on my <em> vīsh, </em> the ring keeping the doors reinforced. </p><p>It wouldn’t break before I allowed it. </p><p>A little subdued and a lot overwhelmed, I demanded, “Why did you leave me, <em> payilas?” </em> </p><p>We’d both been angry, our beliefs clashing. I understood that. But I was here to protect her -- it was the core of our agreement. I couldn’t do that if we were apart. Whatever she said or did, as long as she held to her end of the bargain, I would hold to mine. It didn’t matter how we fought or argued. I had made a promise -- I had <em> vowed. </em> </p><p>Could she not trust in that? </p><p>Her gaze flit back to mine, and for a moment, we stared at one another. For a moment, I allowed myself to marvel at this creature: her mind, her intelligence, her honesty, her impossible softness -- a thing I was learning was both external and internal. </p><p>Then, shame twisting her features, she admitted, “Because I’m <em> zh'ūltis.”  </em></p><p>Amusement pulled at my lips. She hadn’t said even that one word right, either. “I have been telling you that,” I pointed out. </p><p>“Yes,” she agreed. </p><p>“You keep disagreeing,” I continued. </p><p>“I did,” she allowed, “but you were right all along.” </p><p>I had to admit I wasn’t sure what to make of her, now. So much had shifted over the last few minutes, both in our relationship and -- I thought -- how we saw one another. But now wasn’t the time to ruminate on it, I told myself, getting my hands under me again. Sitting astride her hips, I reached for her injured hand, bringing it up where I could examine it. </p><p>She stared, wide-eyed, distressed. Her throat flexed. </p><p>Holding her hand tightly in mine, I grasped her first finger, directing, “Close your teeth, <em> payilas, </em> so you do not bite your tongue.” </p><p>She closed her mouth with an audible sound, and then I began. Each tug of her fingers conjured another scream from her as I fixed her disjointed digits, more impacts rattling the container the entire time. I ignored it for now, more concerned with imagining the ways I was going to torture Leonard for harming my <em> payilas </em> like this. </p><p>I was gentle with her as I checked her knuckles, making sure they were back in place with light squeezes and prods. Satisfied, I pictured the <em> hh’ainun </em> still waiting outside. Was Amalia still alive? I needed to have a talk with her about <em> loyalty.  </em></p><p>A third impact hit the doors, louder than the others, and my <em> payilas </em> jolted from the noise. Her fear returned in a suffocating wave. </p><p>“Now what?” she asked, almost inaudible. </p><p><em> “Hnn,” </em> I hummed. “I think you said...kill them all.” A vicious grin split my face, twisting with cruel pleasure. “I will do that,” I told her. </p><p>She didn’t look any more calm. “But how?” she demanded. “There’s still so many of them.” </p><p>Yes, I admitted, and I no longer had the element of surprise. They’d seen me fight; they’d learned. Tilting my head, I considered my <em> payilas, </em> then unwound our infernus from my belt, offering it to her. </p><p><em> “Payilas,” </em> I prompted, “can you make the spell of bright light again?” </p><p>Her mind raced as she considered it. “I need something to draw with. Something like--” She cut herself off, her gaze snagging on my bloodied hand. Then, certain, she said, “Yes, but if you tell me what you have in mind, I might be able to do better than a light cantrip.” </p><p>A quiet but steely determination had tinted her voice, that dark promise I’d heard once before returning. She was growing stronger, I realized, and it pulled a savage grin across my face. </p><p>Slaying Tahēsh had been glorious, but fighting alongside my <em> payilas </em> was promising to be more so. I could hardly wait to see what she could do. </p><p> </p><p>--</p><p> </p><p>It was time. Another moment of <em>dh'ērrenith,</em> another round of bloody vengeance. We were ready. </p><p>Robin had used her own blood as paint, drawing runes on her own arms and along the floor of this container. Her nerve impressed me; a few days ago, she would not have been able to do this, I knew. A few days ago, she had been much, much weaker. </p><p>Now she was finally finding her strength. </p><p>I had learned by watching her, as well. The size of the rune she drew seemed to determine its power, unlike my <em>vīsh.</em> That was a boon; it meant the magic she summoned would be powerful regardless of how drained <em> she </em> might become. It meant her <em>vīsh</em> could not fail. </p><p>Outside, I could hear the <em> hh’ainun </em> talking. They believed we were trapped. They believed that once they got through the doors, they would win. The <em> fools. </em> </p><p>I was a fiend, they’d said. I was about to show them how much. </p><p>With my tail lashing behind me with excitement, I readied for my leap, a hand lifting towards the damaged doors. My <em> payilas </em> was on my back again, waiting, her grip tight on my shoulders, her legs clinging to my waist. </p><p>At my will, my spell would drop. With our exit, she would call hers, and the humans beyond would be blinded. I would take her to Amalia (whom, she had explained, had <em> not </em> intentionally betrayed us, but had done everything she could think of to get Travis to release them), kill the man restraining her. Then she and Amalia would run, and I would be free to finish <em> all </em> of them. </p><p>For once, she professed no hesitations, nor responsibility, nor guilt. For once, she agreed with me that these humans deserved death. </p><p>“Are you ready, <em> payilas?” </em> I checked. </p><p>“Yes,” she confirmed, her voice wavering. </p><p>She was scared. I understood. I’d been scared, too, my first few fights. All she needed was a couple victories to convince her that she was stronger than she knew. </p><p>This would be her first. </p><p>Now, I decided. My <em>vīsh</em> arced through my arm to my palm, circling the air around my hand. I would drop the shield at the same time I launched this spell, throwing a return blast they were not expecting. </p><p>“Now,” I told Robin, my <em>vīsh</em> darting from my palm to the doors in between impacts to it, my shield dropping; the blast threw the doors wide, one of them flinging off its hinge and crushing a summoned demon. </p><p><em> “Luce!” </em> she called, her grip tightening on me. </p><p>Three spells in tandem. It was glorious, indeed, I thought, darting through the light she’d summoned. The humans recoiled, shielding their eyes; I saw their shapes clearly still. My path was clear. Two shoving steps had me stopping before Amalia, and with one swipe, the male restraining her was bathed in blood. </p><p>She gasped, jolting, unable to see but aware that <em> something </em> had happened; Robin slid off me, seizing her kin; I made myself the target, giving the females time to rush from the melee. Four demons and two <em> hh’ainun </em> were ready for me -- so they thought. </p><p><em> “Surrige!” </em> Robin’s voice called; a contractor was knocked over from the blast, his demon freezing his movements. </p><p>
  <em> Vh'renthinas.  </em>
</p><p>Many enemies at once was...not ideal, but I was still faster than they could ever hope to be. I made it through my kin to the contractors, but their protectors were in the way; I had to divert my charge, avoiding their weapons. </p><p><em> “Ventos!” </em> my <em> payilas </em> shouted, and a strong wind buffeted the two humans, throwing off their motions. </p><p>A spell arced towards me; I was already aside it, gaze locked on my target. When another spell broke the ground, I felt it coming and leapt over it, landing on my first target and slashing across his neck. He clutched his gushing neck in confused, panicked flails; I moved on, assessing  the remaining threats. </p><p>Still all four demons, all four contractors -- but now only protected by one more. </p><p><em> “Nebu--” </em> </p><p>Robin was cut off before she could finish speaking; a darting glance confirmed she was alright, still standing. </p><p><em> “Nebulam!” </em> she tried again, faster than before. </p><p>Mist rose around us, blinding all but the demons. I avoided them, aiming for the last defender; he tried to do battle even in the fog, but he didn’t see me until too late. I knocked his swinging blade away, slashed up his chest, then took his neck as a prize. The contractors’ forms beckoned; I descended. </p><p>One down. Two. The wind swept away the fog at last, revealing my bloody massacre. Two demons intercepted me, two were stunned by their own freedom, unmoving. They hadn’t realized it yet. </p><p>“Watch out!” </p><p>Amalia’s voice, panicked. Can’t look. Busy dodging, deflecting. </p><p><em> “Impello!” </em> </p><p>Robin’s voice. Alright? In danger? </p><p><em> Faster. </em> </p><p>I saw it: my opening. A brief space between the two demons, the contractors on the other side of them. I dashed through it, claws flashing, swinging; the contractor snapped out of it too slow to move. His head lifted from his shoulders, spinning through the air, blood splattering. </p><p>I turned on the last. </p><p>“Stop your demon! Now!” </p><p>Karlson, again. He’d survived this long. </p><p>I’d <em> allowed </em> him to survive this long. </p><p>The last contractor relinquished control, recoiling from my advance, terrified. My claws sank under his jaw, and with a yank, I removed it for him; he managed a piercing shriek, then was silent. </p><p>I turned. Ice raced in my veins; there he was, standing above my <em> payilas, </em> an axe in his hands, poised to strike. With a snarl, savage and enraged, I launched for them. </p><p>He jolted, a crushing impact echoing. He fell, revealing Travis behind him, holding a now-bloodied rock. The boy looked stunned; his first kill? </p><p>I stopped, assessing him, deciding. He’d threatened Robin, and then he’d saved her. I leapt to them, clearing corpses and their slippery blood and entrails in one bound. Then, landing, I circled Travis, predatory intent in every motion. Did I kill him, too? Did I not? This <em> was </em> all his fault -- all of it, I was reminded. </p><p>He’d told these men about Robin. He’d brought her into the library. Then he’d hunted us both, taken her, brought her here, put her in this much danger… </p><p>“Well, <em> payilas?” </em> I prompted her, even as I taunted him. “Should I kill this one too?” I would <em> relish </em> killing <em> this </em> one for her. <em> Karkis. </em> Betrayer. </p><p>Travis stood frozen, gaze on me, holding his rock all the tighter -- his one weapon. It would do him no good; I wondered if he knew that. </p><p>Her mind raced, thinking. Then, inhaling steadily, she declined. “Zylas, I think enough people have died today.” </p><p><em> Soft -- inside and out, </em> I thought. </p><p>“Mercy is for the weak, <em> payilas,” </em> I warned her. Travis had betrayed her twice; he would do so again. </p><p>“The weak can’t afford mercy,” she argued, catching my gaze. “I think we can.” </p><p>I glowered at her, wincing at the blatant stupidity she’d just uttered. But she’d made her decision, and after everything that had happened, I was feeling gracious enough to acquiesce. Travis was her kin, I reminded myself. She clearly valued her family greatly, enough so to forgive them for even this. </p><p>Travis would not betray her again, I thought, watching him. He wouldn’t dare -- not after <em> this. </em> He knew better. He knew what I could do now -- what I <em> would </em> do. </p><p>I would not allow him to live a third time. </p><p>Silence descended as the <em> hh’ainun </em> gazed at one another and the carnage laying around us. Then, proving her survival instincts again, Amalia said, “We should leave.” </p><p>Travis nodded his agreement. “I have a car parked on the street,” he informed them. “This way.” </p><p>He led the females away, and as I followed, the scent of the blood began to finally reach me. Revolted, I tried to clean my hands of it, and I vaguely noticed my <em> payilas </em> as she went, continually glancing behind her to check on me. My lip quirked. Worried I wouldn’t follow? </p><p>She should know better. I may not have said it, but I had decided: she was mine. I was never letting her free of me. </p><p>Then all three <em> hh’ainun </em> stopped, freezing in place. My attention riveted to them, then to the source of their focus. Over their shoulders, a vehicle sat, the engine still rumbling. The door opened and a male stepped out. I stood stock still, falling back into my act of absolute obedience. </p><p><em> Danger. </em> I recognized his scent the moment the door was ajar. I had never seen him before, but I knew his scent well. The other summoner, the one always there with Jack during their pathetic begging and cajoling--</p><p>“Claude?” the siblings blurted in unison. </p><p>He smiled at them, looking relieved. “Amalia, Travis -- and Robin,” he added with more surprise, “I’m so glad you’re safe.” </p><p>A hiss passed through my teeth. <em> Lie. </em> </p><p>Then, another scent -- a demon. First rank, I deduced immediately, my gaze snapping side to side, alert. Where was he?! </p><p>“How did you find us?” Amalia questioned, suspicious. </p><p>“I have many contacts in various circles,” Claude explained. He looked to me, appraising. “So that’s the demon from the library, is it?” </p><p><em> Danger, </em> I thought again, but I was caught. I couldn’t act until I knew where the danger was -- until Robin knew there <em> was </em> danger. Not for the first time, but with more urgency than ever before, I lamented being unable to make her hear <em> my </em> thoughts. </p><p>At least none of the three humans trusted Claude. </p><p>“What are you doing here?” Travis demanded, curt. </p><p>“I came to fetch you -- to get you all away from Red Rum,” the summoner explained -- another lie. “Come along, kids,” he prompted them. </p><p>Yearning bloomed in Robin’s mind, but she held back, refusing to move any closer. The siblings, too, didn’t make a single move. They all sensed the danger, like I did. </p><p>Claude’s expression barely changed, but I saw the subtle drop to his smile -- and then I heard it. Wings, the whistle of movement, a dive from above--</p><p><em> Robin! </em> </p><p>I sprang for her, shoving her backwards -- just in time. Pain exploded from my back as I was slammed into the ground, a heavy body crushing into mine, the ground splitting from the impact. With effort, I summoned a force <em> vīsh, </em> blasting the other off me, then spun to face him. </p><p>Dh’irath, I concluded immediately. Second House. I launched at him, even as I knew there was no way I could win against an <em> uninjured </em> Dh’irath. I had to, I told myself fiercely; I couldn’t let Robin die after all this! </p><p><em> Protect! </em>my mind screamed ferociously. </p><p>We collided in a mass of swishing talons and lashing tails, whirling around each other, but something was...wrong. Each of my swings was becoming clumsier, and the Dh’irath wasn’t even trying to strike back. He just smiled at me, patient, as against my will, against all logic, I staggered. My balance failed. Weakness poured through me as if I was bleeding -- no, even faster. Even bleeding out wouldn’t cause my strength to fade <em> this </em> quickly. </p><p>What was this? What <em> was this? </em> A <em> vīsh? </em> What kind? What could do...what could do this…? </p><p>My mind swirled, fighting the weakness, and I latched onto my only steady thought: Robin. My <em> payilas. </em> Struggling against this lethargy, I managed to turn to her, desperate to grab her and escape. I didn’t know where the siblings were, didn’t care; we had to escape. <em> Now. </em> </p><p>I fell. She surged forward, catching my shoulders before I slammed into the pavement, steadying my kneel, but I could do nothing to help. My limbs refused to respond to my orders, hanging limply. I slid down her body against my will, and she held me tighter, scared and confused. Her fear suffused the air, cloaking me in it. </p><p>My own fear rose to meet hers. </p><p>Claude’s voice then, echoing strangely in my ears: “A good summoner knows how to neutralize a demon safely.” In my mind, in <em> Robin’s </em> mind, I saw a picture: a long, thin container, passed from the Dh’irath to Claude. “Neutralizing humans is far simpler, though,” he continued casually. </p><p>Robin’s terror flared. I couldn’t see, but I could hear, and I heard struggling, grunts of pain. Another flicker, her mind open to me: the demon, holding the siblings aloft by their necks. </p><p>“No!” she shrieked -- a plead, an order, a desperate beg. Her hands clutched at me, her fingers delving into my hair in a tight hold. </p><p>I managed enough strength to grip her legs, fighting to regain control of myself; my hold knocked her off balance, tripping her backwards. The weakness only pooled deeper and I fell with her, my face smacked into her hip. Panic thrummed through me just as strongly as this paralysis, the two fighting for dominance; my muscles would only twitch and spasm, ignoring my commands. And, worse, her scent was so strong here, filling my nose -- blocking out the others. I could only see what was in front of me and <em> listen. </em> </p><p>Fury and terror and helplessness and disbelief -- I was awash in powerful emotions, but not a single one could force me to <em> move. </em> Desperately, I envisioned many different <em> vīsh, </em> frantic to think of a way to fight off this weakness. I had to get her out of here -- now! </p><p>“Don’t kill them!” my <em> payilas </em> begged. “Please don’t!” </p><p>She was crying. I could hear it in her voice, could feel it in the shaking of her form. </p><p>Thuds, then. Bodies hitting the ground. Had Claude agreed? Had the Dh’irath let the siblings go? </p><p>“Why are you doing this?” she sobbed, her fingers digging into my scalp. Her mind was more active than it’d ever been, beseeching me, begging me to get up and help. </p><p>I tried. With every ounce of my will, <em> I tried. </em> </p><p>My body merely spasmed uselessly once more. </p><p>“Why?” Claude replied; I heard him approaching, and new fury ignited in me. </p><p><em> No closer! </em> </p><p>“It’s quite simple, Robin,” he told her, oblivious to my warning. “I’ve invested years into acquiring the demon you stole from under my nose.” </p><p>“What…” she choked, confused, not understanding. </p><p>His feet shifted, and I forced my eyes to <em> look. </em> He was squatted by her side, holding her gaze. She recoiled just a little, her fingers curling in her terror. I tried to snarl, but my throat had yet to respond.</p><p>Claude continued, as if not at all ruffled by the situation, “With the acquisition of the First and Twelfth Houses, I’m the first to possess all twelve names since the Athanas summoners. The First House is the most powerful, but the Twelfth House…” He paused, appraising my unresponsive form again. “The Twelfth House is truly special.” </p><p>We...were? </p><p>“Special how?” she managed through her fear. </p><p>“I’m not entirely sure,” he told her. “The answers lie in your mother’s invaluable grimoire.” </p><p>All the more reason to take it back, then. </p><p>She clutched me closer. “The grimoire belongs to me,” she said, the faintest thread of determination reaching her at last. </p><p>“Indeed it does,” he agreed, “which is why I have a proposal for you, Miss Page. Come with me,” he prompted. “I’ll teach you how to survive, how to build a relationship of true power with your demon, and together, we can translate your family’s grimoire and discover all the secrets your mother kept from you.” </p><p>A weak, pitiful hiss eased past my payalyzed throat. </p><p><em> Lies. </em> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Book 1, Chapter 28-End</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>She hesitated. She was <em> hesitating. </em> Robin, my <em> payilas, </em> was <em> considering </em> it! She was considering Claude’s offer! </p><p>A burn ignited in my chest -- both because of Claude’s lies and Robin’s pause. Now, of all times, she was thinking of betraying me?! After all we’d been through, after all I’d done for her--!</p><p>“You’ll be safe with me, Robin,” Claude promised her. </p><p>No...no, I corrected as I felt her thoughts careening in her mind. She was analyzing the situation, weighing all the options. She was debating, her bond with her kin in her mind, her concern for me continuously sparking in her awareness. Yearning saturated all else, the desire for safety bouncing at the back of her mind. </p><p>She wasn’t going to betray me. She was just trying to be smart, to make the best decision she could, given the situation. She recognized her own lack of power and was trying to be cunning about it. </p><p>Distrust came back to the surface of her mind. She didn’t trust Claude, but her thoughts had settled. She was decided. </p><p><em> Don’t be foolish! </em> </p><p>“You have to leave Amalia and Travis alive,” she demanded, her voice wavering with fear -- but not uncertainty. “Don’t hurt them anymore.” </p><p>“If you prefer,” he allowed. He reached for her, palm upraised, a ring around his finger. “So you’re with me, then?” </p><p>My gaze latched onto the ring. It stood out somehow. I didn’t trust it. I didn’t trust anything about this. <em> Danger! </em>my instincts continued to scream. </p><p>Hesitant, she answered, “Yes,” and placed her hand in his. </p><p>A lie. </p><p>A new wash of cold terror descended. Claude’s Dh’irath demon was <em> right there, </em> and I suspected he wasn’t <em> properly contracted, </em> either. Could they communicate? Would Claude sense her lie? </p><p>Taking her hand gently, he hummed, “Hmm. I’m disappointed, Robin. Haven’t you realized yet that demons can detect lies?” </p><p><em> No!! </em> </p><p>Her head whipped around; I couldn’t see it, but I could feel it. </p><p><em> “Ori profundior decidas,” </em> Claude said coolly. </p><p>Panic shot through me with renewed fervor -- at the same time as Robin went rigid, then limp, collapsing sideways. My heart took off, her impassive gaze seeing through me, her body and face slack. I twitched weakly, fighting to reach her -- even as I remained splayed across her lower half. </p><p>The both of us were helpless, now. Fury kept trying to take hold, a desperate attempt at not feeling this excruciating loss. The realization that we might both become trapped in separate prisons like the one before descended, and with it, pain tore at me. <em> Not again.  </em></p><p><em> Not again! </em> </p><p>And my mind was reeling, too. How had he known? Through the Dh’irath? How had they communicated? <em> How? </em> A desperate, unbelievable thought surfaced: was the connection two-way? Could Robin hear <em> my </em> thoughts? How?! Something had clearly gone wrong if we were supposed to be able to hear each other, because she professed no ability to hear <em> my </em> thoughts. </p><p>“Kill the Harper brats,” Claude ordered, rising, “then bring those two. The extract will wear off soon, so I need to dose the demon again.” </p><p>My mind seized on that declaration. The “extract” would wear off soon? How soon was <em> soon? </em> My efforts redoubled, pathetic growls escaping my throat with each success -- and each failure. I could do this, I told myself fiercely. I would! I just needed moments more--</p><p><em> Vīsh </em> blazed somewhere behind my view, bathing everything in red light, but it didn’t look or feel like demon magic. The smell of <em> hh’ainun </em> and their power reached me through my furious struggles, but I didn’t allow myself to feel relief. They might drive Claude and the Dh’irath off, but that didn’t mean any of us were safe. </p><p>Through Robin’s eyes, I understood. She could see. Three males, one of them she identified. <em> Darius King, </em> she thought. </p><p>The guild master of the Crow and Hammer, my mind finished. </p><p>Everything changed, then, my sight blanking to infrared. All the details were gone, only the glow of warmth and darkness of cold still visible. </p><p>Claude’s voice, then, shocked: “What’s happening? I can’t see!” </p><p>I kept my gaze on my <em> payilas, </em> desperation, fury and opportunity driving me to fight harder. My body strained without straining, nothing obeying my vehement orders. I had to get up. Now was my only chance to get us out of here. While the fight continued -- as long as it continued -- I could get us out of here! </p><p>The beat of wings. Battle raged where I could not see, could not judge. Who would win? <em> Imadnul </em> -- neither were safe. I focused on my movements, forcing my fingers and toes to flex. It was excruciating and exhausting, but an accomplishment like no other. The first threads of strength were flowing back into me. </p><p>Robin’s unfocused gaze kept watch of the battle. Through this, I was able to pair sound with action. The three humans were succeeding, if only just. Impacts, blasts, eruptions; scents of blood, earth and <em> vīsh. </em> </p><p><em> Demon vīsh. </em> The Dh’irath was summoning something -- something <em> massive. </em> </p><p>Struggling, the weakness only just beginning to ebb, I forced myself up on my arms. My legs weren’t as steady; I had to drag myself forward, settling over Robin. It was the best I could do until my legs would work again; I caged her head in my arms, shielding her as best I could, my head ducking down into her shoulder. </p><p>I barely had her protected before the shockwave hit us, the ground vibrating from the explosion. Power washed over us both, buffeted us, but there was no pain -- no injury. I scented none of my <em> payilas’s </em> blood. Seconds ticked by; I got a knee under me. It would have to do. </p><p>I finally forced my head to lift, to look. The Dh’irath was winging away, his heat taking to the sky with the summoner under his arm. Gone. </p><p>One threat down. </p><p>“Damn,” one of the males cursed. </p><p>...Three remaining. </p><p>Tension shot through me. They were approaching, both their scents and their footfalls coming closer. My lips peeled back in a snarl and, feeling like this was the hardest I had ever fought before in my life, I dragged myself up onto my heels, hauling Robin into my arms. </p><p><em> Get away. Protect. </em> </p><p>She felt heavier than anything I’d carried before; a part of me wanted to laugh. So tiny, yet so unbelievably difficult to hold, her weight almost too much… </p><p>It took two tries to heave up to my feet, buckling under the strain. My muscles could barely compensate for this much weight and I only managed a few lurching steps before the weakness won out. I slammed back down to a knee. The blindness, at least, was gone now, the spell broken. </p><p>The humans had reached us, and with my legs refusing to move, I could only snarl at them threateningly as they circled us. I clutched my precious <em> payilas </em> closer, warning the humans away even as I recognized I couldn’t yet do anything to <em> force </em>them to leave. </p><p>One of them eyed me curiously, then leaned towards another. “Is it just me,” he said, “or is that demon acting independently?” </p><p>Another answered, “She could be controlling it even if she can’t move.” Robin’s mind suggested his name was <em> Girard.  </em></p><p>The third, thoughtful, gave his long beard a stroke. <em> Darius, </em> Robin identified. </p><p>“Robin?” he prompted. “If your demon stands down, we can remove that spell.” </p><p>Which spell? Hers? The one Claude had cast? I almost snarled again; at what <em> cost, hh’ainun? </em> </p><p>There was always a cost. </p><p><em> Zylas, </em> Robin called, talking directly to me for the first time since this battle had begun, <em> I think they’ll help us. </em> </p><p>I wanted to call her <em> zh'ūltis, </em> but a thought brought me pause. She was generous and selfless; could she recognize other <em> hh’ainun </em> with similar traits? </p><p>I couldn’t be sure, but I wanted the spell lifted from her. Still, I wouldn’t allow many humans so close to her -- not now, when both of us were still so weak. </p><p>“One of you may approach,” I allowed, a silent snarl keeping my lips curled in warning. </p><p>All three of them reacted, stun and disbelief coloring their expressions. Irritation and anger flowed from my <em> payilas. </em> </p><p>“Well, I’ll be damned,” Girard said, recovering. “I’ve never heard a demon talk before.” </p><p>Annoyed, my tail whipped, audibly smacking against the ground; I almost cheered at the amount of freedom it took to manage. “Stupid as every <em> hh’ainun,” </em> I sneered at him. “Why would I not talk?” </p><p><em> Because you’re supposed to be contracted! </em> Robin’s voice screamed in my mind. </p><p>The third male -- the one Robin had not identified -- retorted, “I bet you’ve never been insulted by a demon, either.” Then, to their leader, he said, “This is clearly an illegal contract, Darius.” </p><p>I glared a vicious warning at all three of them. Darius gazed back, thoughtful, noting our pose, my <em> payilas </em> clutched protectively in my arms. If I needed to, I would rend them apart, regardless of the fact that they’d saved us both. I didn’t care how difficult, how impossible, that task was. I’d find a way. </p><p>
  <em> Protect.  </em>
</p><p>At length, Darius put his weapons back in their sheaths, then prompted, “Girard, a dispelling artifact, please.” </p><p>Girard did a double-take. “You can’t approach it,” he denied. “That demon is out of control.” </p><p><em> This </em> was being ‘out of control’? He should have seen me ten minutes ago. </p><p>Silently ordering, Darius held out his hand, waiting. Darius <em> King, </em> his name was. <em> Dīnen </em>of his House, then? He commanded without words. I liked him. </p><p>I would still kill him if he made any move to harm Robin, but I liked him. </p><p>Hesitant but obedient, Girard did as bade. I watched him pull a small, metal ball from a pocket at his waist, handing it over to Darius. </p><p>The male crept closer, deliberately slow, and knelt down. Acutely aware that I was letting a potential threat entirely too close to the one being in this entire world I was willing to kill for, my fingers curled in her clothing, ready to snatch her back if this male did <em> anything </em> except what he promised. I leaned in towards him in warning, my teeth close enough to rip out his throat in a heartbeat if he made a single unexpected or aggressive motion. </p><p>Darius focused on his spell, but I could feel his heat flaring in time with his elevated heart, tense. He whispered words as he pressed the ball to Robin’s forehead, an incantation I didn’t know and couldn’t verify. </p><p>Robin’s body gave a shift, so subtle, and then she gasped, filling her lungs. </p><p>I shoved Darius roughly, forcing his arm away from her, snarling, “Get back.” </p><p>The male leaned back but didn’t move from his place, noting aloud, “You’re very protective of your contractor.” </p><p>A part of me marveled that this <em> hh’ainun </em> was speaking <em> to </em> me instead of <em> about </em> me; the rest of me was readying to pounce. He knew too much. He was understanding the situation. His knowledge meant death for me, for Robin. I bared my teeth at him, judging the speed of my limbs, the length of my claws -- and the delicate skin of his <em> hh’ainun </em>neck. </p><p>Robin surged up, catching me off guard. Her arms seized me around my head, clutching my face to her chest, blinding me and keeping me from being able to effectively act. Without being able to see the male in front of me, I couldn’t accurately gouge out his throat, and I was too weak to risk trying it <em> twice. </em> </p><p>I snarled in fury, grasping her shoulders, trying to free myself. But right now, she was stronger than I was; until this weakness finally wore off, her grip could outlast mine -- unless I pushed much, much harder, and to do that…</p><p>That would hurt her. </p><p>But she was risking so much, restraining me like this! She was putting the both of us in danger, wasn’t she aware of that?! </p><p><em> “Payilas!” </em> I shouted, pulling at her clothing, trying to force her arms to slip. </p><p>She shifted, bracing herself, as she replied, “You can’t kill people whenever you want. And you’re not killing someone who just saved us.” Her voice was unsteady and unsure, her breathing still settling back to normal. </p><p>Infuriated with this situation -- and the ridiculousness of my <em> payilas </em> proving stronger than <em> I </em> was -- I let out a muffled, vicious snarl. She was so <em> zh'ūltis </em> -- why did she trust these humans, these strangers?! If she got us killed from this--! </p><p>She pivoted, just a little. “Um, so...I can explain,” she said to the humans. </p><p>“Can you?” Darius responded, his disbelief audible. </p><p>I wasn’t hearing much trust in those words. I dug my claws into Robin’s sleeves, tearing them apart, trying to impress upon her how dire this situation was. I had to kill them -- now, before they could tell any others! </p><p>Doubt flickered through me. How could I, now, while I was so weak? They’d driven off Claude and the Dh’irath demon, something I couldn’t have done, even were I not paralyzed like this. I was a Vh’alyir, and my human was nowhere near Claude’s experience or power. The chances of defeating these <em> hh’ainun </em> was zero. </p><p>Darius’s feet carried him back to the others. New fury ignited in me; now he was out of my reach, too! </p><p>Then he said, “Maybe you should let him go.” </p><p>Surprise calmed my inner fury, but it raised again when Robin did as <em> he </em> directed, her arms unwinding. </p><p>I jerked back on my toes, spearing her with every ounce of my anger. <em> “Kanish zh’ūltis! Eshathē dilēran!” </em> I cursed at her. </p><p>“Don’t call me stupid,” she shot back, voice tight, as she fixed her askew glasses. “You’re the stupid one! All you had to do was keep your big mouth shut so they wouldn’t know you aren’t properly contracted.” </p><p>And now <em> she </em> had just confirmed it with <em> her </em> big mouth! “He already knew because he used his blindness <em> vīsh </em>on me!” I spat back. </p><p>Confusion made her rebuttal weak. “That wouldn’t work on a de-- oh.” </p><p>I glared; she winced. </p><p>The humans were still staring in complete disbelief, but now Darius finally spoke up. </p><p>“Ah,” he said. “I was wondering about that -- why blindness doesn’t affect demons.” </p><p>Robin helpfully answered, “They have infrared vision as well as--” </p><p>Another wave of fury had me spitting, “Why are you answering?! <em> Zh'ūltis!”  </em></p><p>“Stop calling me stupid!” she shouted. </p><p>With a heave, I snagged her by her sweater and forced myself back to my feet, pulling her with me. The weakness remained just enough that my balance faltered; Robin put an arm around me, using her body to help keep me propped up. </p><p>I growled at her in warning. </p><p>Behind her, I saw the humans all startle to attention, halfway reaching in concern. It soothed my ire the smallest amount. They were ready to defend <em> her </em> from <em> me, </em> I concluded. That meant they were unlikely to harm her, at least. It meant there was...a chance. I couldn’t fight them off, but if I was cunning enough, I could still turn this in our favor. </p><p>The unidentified male -- her mind kept calling him <em> volcanomage </em> -- commented, “I don’t believe what I’m seeing.” </p><p>“Me neither,” Girard told him. </p><p>Darius, at least, was thoughtful. “This is quite the conundrum, isn’t it?” he said. </p><p>A -- what? That didn’t sound good. </p><p>Tension descended. I scowled at the males, hating this predicament, hating my weakness -- hating my <em> payilas. </em> I knew I couldn’t succeed in killing <em> all </em> of them, should they decide I need to be executed, but I was determined to at least take one of them down with me. I sized them up, deciding, judging which one would be easiest. </p><p>Perhaps, if I killed even one, the others would give up, valuing survival over their ally? </p><p>Darius heaved a sigh, his own mind reaching a decision. My gaze snapped to him, a lethal warning spread across my face. If he came for me, for <em> her… </em> </p><p>His hands grasped his weapons. “I’m sorry, Robin,” he told her, “but your demon is clearly a danger. We have no choice but to exterminate it for the safety of--” </p><p>“No! You can’t!” she interrupted shrilly, twisting and throwing her arms out -- to shield <em> me? </em> </p><p>My head tilted. </p><p>Darius frowned at her. “Robin--” </p><p>“You’ll have to kill me too!” she declared, fear pouring off her even as her voice was steady. “He saved my life. He’s not enslaved to me, but he -- he’s my partner. And I won’t--” </p><p>My eyes widened, snagging onto the back of her skull. <em> Partner? </em> That translated in my head as <em> ally, </em> and something different twisted in me at the sound of it. I felt it flash across my face, a twitch of muscles, a cant of my head -- and then I moved. </p><p>Seizing her by her sweater, I dragged her behind me. I knew what to do now, a new plan constructing itself in my mind. But even as I enacted this plan, my feelings got the better of me. </p><p>“Stupid <em> payilas. </em>I will protect you,” I sneered, cowardly hiding these odd sensations behind anger. </p><p>“You can barely stand straight!” she argued, forcing herself forward again. “I’ll--” </p><p>With a shove at her hips, I forced her back again, then barred her movement with an arm. “You will what?” I challenged. “Yell at them until they die?” </p><p>She glared, baring <em> her </em> teeth at <em> me. </em> “You’re such a jerk.” </p><p><em> “You </em> are <em> mailēshta </em> and <em> nailis </em> and <em> taridis--”  </em></p><p>“Stop insulting me!” she snapped. </p><p>Interrupting our argument, Darius coughed for attention. His thoughtfulness had returned in full force, and he said, “Perhaps exterminating your demon is too hasty a decision.” </p><p><em> Finally. </em> </p><p>Girard stared at Darius, eyes wide. “Darius, the law is clear that--” </p><p>Darius cut him off. “Second rule, my friend. Let’s not destroy something before we understand it.” Towards us -- more specifically, towards Robin -- he continued, “Robin, you said you can explain, and I’d very much like to hear your explanation -- but now is not an ideal time. If you agree to meet with me as soon as possible, we’ll get you out of here before I call this in.” </p><p>Robin went still, disbelieving. And then she said, cautious, “All right.” </p><p>
  <em> Perfect.  </em>
</p><p>“Excellent,” Darius declared, nodding. Gesturing his cohorts, he directed, “Girard will escort you and your companions to a healer while Alistair--” the volcanomage, I deduced “--and I bring the MPD’s attention to the large number of Red Rum casualties.” </p><p>They’d seen the massacre, then? They must have gone there before finding us here. But why had they been here at all? </p><p>My <em> payilas </em> was thinking the same thing. She asked, “How did you know about the Red Rum…” Pausing with thought, she corrected, “Actually, how did you know to be here at all?” </p><p>Darius smiled at her, giving his nose a tap -- for whatever reason. “Our first encounter on Halloween,” he explained, “and that misbehaving sorcerer, set us on the hunt. It was abundantly clear that something larger than a single loose demon was developing -- and I think your explanation will fill in the final pieces of the puzzle.” </p><p>Then...my eyes narrowed...then Darius had been indirectly protecting Robin this whole time? He was already an ally of hers? That would make things easier during this <em> talk. </em> </p><p>Her hand tugged on my arm, pulling my attention to her, and she whispered, “You should return to the infernus for now.” <em> And recover your strength in case we need it later, </em> she added silently. </p><p><em> Smart payilas. </em> I swept my gaze over the humans one more time, assessing their appearances and watching them tend to Amalia and Travis, then willed myself back to the infernus. </p><p>Relief immediately took precedence in Robin’s mind. I scowled in the darkness. <em> Now </em> she felt relief, now that I was no longer there to protect her? Confounding creature. </p><p>Darius’s voice echoed through the emptiness,<em> “By the way, Robin. The expression on your demon’s face when you called him your partner was fascinating.”  </em></p><p>I sneered, anger flaring up again. He’d <em> seen </em> that? No, of course he had -- but I didn’t know what face I’d made! What was so fascinating about it?! </p><p><em> “I’m looking forward to hearing the whole story,” </em>he hinted. </p><p>Aggravation had me swinging blind, frustrated claws at nonexistent enemies. I envisioned those three <em> hh’ainun </em> in my path, and it satisfied the murderous sensation a bit. </p><p> </p><p>-- </p><p> </p><p>Darius King gazed across his desk at us, thoughtful. Robin had finally finished her retelling of the events that had led up until now -- which had taken a great while thanks to her repeatedly becoming overcome with emotion. But this I allowed without complaint because I could see Darius subtly responding to it all. He had pity for her, and though that aggravated me, in this case it was useful. </p><p>She was staring at the floor, constantly close to tears. I was just squatting in my own chair, chin on my hand, arms on my knees, waiting. Every so often my tail dragged across the floor in boredom. </p><p>It’d taken a while to get to this point, both thanks to the story and her own need to recuperate before this confrontation. First she’d “seen a healer” along with her cousins, then returned back to the motel with Amalia, the females cleaning up. Then she’d gone out for new clothing and shoes. Although it was true that she’d been a bloodied mess by then and absolutely felt she needed to fix her appearance, her thoughts had revealed a deeper reasoning: the need to gather her thoughts and plan. </p><p>I’d built my own plan. I’d been building it the entire time she’d lingered before this meeting, then the entire time she’d told her story. It hinged on her not knowing what I was planning to do, though, so I hadn’t told her anything about it. I’d just sat here, listening, adapting my plan based on Darius’s expressions and occasional queries. </p><p>A part of me kept wondering about some things I’d learned today, namely the fact that it seemed like she <em> should </em> be able to hear my thoughts, yet couldn’t. Every so often I’d call a thought towards her, but she never showed any inkling that she’d heard. I wondered why. Was some part of the bond broken, or was there something else at play? Her thoughts were becoming more clear with time, I knew; would my thoughts eventually reach her? Did it only take time to form? Or was it like listening through the infernus -- did she need practice to hear me? </p><p>I was also certain of it now: our contract...wasn’t solid. Somehow, someway, the compelling aspect of it had never happened. That didn’t make sense, but I couldn’t deny the truth. When she’d been in danger, I’d felt no compulsion, and when my own actions got her hurt, there had yet been nothing. No pull, no push, no warning; I wasn’t bound by the contract. </p><p>But I <em> had </em> promised, all the same, and until I returned, I was still <em> Dīnen. </em> I would uphold my bargain as my pride and my power demanded. And besides, I liked her. She was <em> mailēshta </em> and <em> nailis </em> and <em> taridis </em> -- as I’d told her -- and <em> zh'ūltis </em> most of all, but even so, I liked her. We had made deals and promises, and I was always acutely aware of my situation, recognizing that I was <em> incredibly </em>lucky for a demon in this world for finding such a creature as her for my contractor. </p><p>It was even luckier that I liked her. Infuriating though she could be, she was smart and soft and generous, too. I recognized that she was actually trying to make this unwanted vacation easier on me. All together, this meant I was going nowhere -- not until she succeeded in finding a way back to my world. If it took her literal generations, her own young taking over when she grew too old to do it, then so be it. </p><p>I’d stay with her and uphold my end of the bargain. </p><p>Now all I needed was for this Guild Master to accept us as we were. More pointedly, I wanted him to accept her as a member; this <em> Crow and Hammer </em> House was far better than the Grand Grimoire. It was safer for her, and its members had already proven protective of her. It would be better for us both. </p><p>I just had to convince Darius to agree. </p><p>“Well, Robin,” the human in question said at last, “you’ve certainly had an adventure to rival all others.” Pausing, he leaned forward, lacing his fingers. “You’ve broken some of the strictest MPD laws, but by their very nature, laws don’t take individual circumstances into account.” </p><p>Robin perked up. “If you’re suggesting my actions were lawfully wrong but morally right,” she returned, withdrawn, “I disagree. I put people in danger. A lot of mythics died because of me.” </p><p><em> Na? </em> In what way? I thought, irritated, slashing an annoyed look her way. <em> None </em> of this was her fault. The only thing she’d done was help a dying demon live a little bit longer -- and she’d been repeatedly attacked and harmed for it. </p><p>That...angered me. </p><p>Darius understood, too, saying, “They died as a result of their own actions. If you knowingly walk in front of an oncoming car, whose fault is it when the vehicle hits you? Those rogues were fully aware of what they were doing.” </p><p>She crumpled in on herself. “But Todd from the Grand Grimoire--” </p><p><em> Na -- him? </em> I rolled my eyes. </p><p>“Intended to kidnap you,” Darius cut her off firmly, and rage reignited in me. This was something I had only learned through this conversation. “I’m certain he knew that whatever his GM planned, it was nefarious,” he informed her. “Like the Red Rum rogues, he knew he was stepping into danger’s path -- or rather, your demon’s path.” </p><p>He met my gaze; I gave him an impassive, uncaring glance. He continued to Robin, “Instead of putting others in danger, you risked your life to kill the unbound demon. I’m confident in your moral integrity. Your demon, however…” </p><p>My tail lashed. I didn’t like that comparison -- that <em> her </em> morality was greater than my own. I knew what was good for her; she didn’t. I was certain I was older and more experienced. That made my <em> morality </em> superior to <em> hers. </em> My actions, after all, were the only reason she still lived. </p><p>“The MPD, with a little encouragement,” Darius hinted, “has determined the Red Rum squad found dead at the pier was behind the unbound demon. Agents have posted a bounty for information on the men’s deaths, but for better or worse, the case can be considered closed.</p><p>“Your involvement, Robin,” he went on, “has gone unnoticed. The only ones who can tie you to Red Rum are your cousin Travis, the Grand Grimoire guild master, and the summoner Claude Mercier. I think your GM will keep silent rather than risk exposing his own transgressions,” he assured her. “Travis, you said, has gone into hiding to avoid Red Rum’s retribution.” </p><p>Red Rum’s retribution would’ve been nothing at all if my <em> payilas </em> had let me kill Travis then and there. But, no, Robin demanded he be left untouched. And as soon as he’d been able, he’d left the city altogether. He’d made a promise to his sibling and cousin and then he’d run.  </p><p>I hoped he was smart enough to stay away permanently. </p><p>“That leaves Claude,” Darius finished. “My impression is that he’s a lone wolf.” Whatever <em> that </em> was supposed to mean. “Dangerous, but not one who would report you to the MPD.” </p><p>No, I agreed. Claude wouldn’t say anything about what had happened. He had his own goals and it included having his own illegal demon contract and wanting Robin’s mother’s grimoire -- which, I’d noticed, she hadn’t mentioned in her retelling. She was keeping its value secret. </p><p><em> Ahktallis. </em> </p><p>Steadying herself, she replied, “Actually, you forgot someone.” </p><p>“Who is that?” Darius prompted. </p><p>She focused on him. “You,” she answered softly. And, I couldn’t help noticing, I wasn’t smelling any fear on her. She wasn’t afraid -- because she now knew how willing and capable I was at killing, <em> na? </em> </p><p>Whatever we owed to Darius, it wouldn’t stay my claws. </p><p>“Ah,” Darius agreed, giving her a gentle smile. “I’ll be frank, Robin.” </p><p>Frank? His name was Darius -- wasn’t it? I squinted at him, baffled. </p><p>“I don’t believe you or Zylas deserve execution -- not for anything you’ve done yet,” he told her, his words measured. “However, knowing the nature of your contract, I can’t disregard my moral responsibility.” </p><p>There was that word again: <em>responsibility.</em> <em>Hh’ainun</em> were obsessed with it. </p><p>“Allowing you to disappear,” he was saying, “and potentially wreak the havoc and destruction only an unbound demon can inflict, would be unconscionably irresponsible.” </p><p>His words were painful. The language spell hadn’t done enough to make all this easy to follow, but I got the meaning: he couldn’t just let us go. </p><p>I waited, my plan at the forefront of my mind. </p><p>Fidgeting, Robin asked, “So, if you aren’t turning us in but can’t ignore us, what do you plan to do?” </p><p>“My first inclination,” he answered, “is to induct you into my guild. You can’t stay at the Grand Grimoire, and any other Demonica-licensed guild presents its own dangers. Here, I can keep watch over you two.” </p><p>I made an annoyed noise. Most of what he’d said fit with my own plan, but that last statement grated. He was going to <em> keep watch </em> over us, was he? </p><p>Ignoring me, he continued more firmly, “However, I’m also responsible for the safety of my guild.” </p><p>Robin crumpled again. “I understand. I don’t want to put your guild members in danger either,” she mumbled. </p><p>Offense rose. As if I would bother to put any of them <em> in danger. </em> She didn’t know this much yet? <em> Zh'ūltis </em> -- but explaining that was part of my plan. I focused on Darius. </p><p>“Since inducting you isn’t an option,” he said, “the best alternative would be--” </p><p>
  <em> Dh'ērrenith.  </em>
</p><p><em> “Na?” </em> I interrupted, snapping their attention to me. “Why are you not asking me?” </p><p>The way Darius jolted at my question told me exactly why he hadn’t asked me anything: he’d forgotten I was <em> unbound. </em> He’d forgotten I could answer for myself, that I was listening and thinking and waiting. </p><p>He paused a second, then checked, “Asking you what?” </p><p>I mimicked his voice. <em> “Are you dangerous? Will you kill my guild members?” </em> Robin’s jaw dropped, staring, and her head gave a shake as if she couldn’t believe what I’d just done. Ignoring that, I leaned forward on my hands, equal parts demanding and threatening. “Or do you think I am a stupid beast and cannot answer?” I challenged. </p><p>Surprised, Darius backtracked, replying, “My apologies, Zylas. However, I don’t see how I can trust your answers.” </p><p>He didn’t smell of fear, I noted. Everyone else did when I confronted them like this. He was a <em> Dīnen </em>in his own right -- or the equivalent, I thought. I was right to like him. </p><p>“Because you did not ask,” I pointed out. </p><p>Thoughtful, he folded his hands. “All right. Are you dangerous?” he asked, quoting my own imitation of him. </p><p>I grinned. “Yes,” I answered, prideful of that fact.</p><p>“Will you kill my guild members?” he pressed. </p><p>“Yes.” </p><p>Silence descended. Robin shielded her face, her emotions seeming to squeeze in an odd way. </p><p>“Enlightening,” Darius commented dryly. </p><p><em> “Ch,” </em> I scoffed. “You are as stupid as the rest.” </p><p>My <em> payilas </em> groaned. “Zylas,” she complained, “would you just--” </p><p>Interrupting and ignoring her, I said, “Ask me now: Will I kill Robin’s allies?” </p><p>Shock permeated the bond between us. A thought flickered: <em> He hasn’t used my name since I’d told it to him. </em> No, I hadn’t; <em> payilas </em>was much more fitting. </p><p>And funny. </p><p>Darius gave me a measuring look before repeating, “Will you kill Robin’s allies?” </p><p>“No,” I answered firmly. </p><p>“Why not?” </p><p>It was not obvious? “Because she needs them,” I explained. “If your guild members are her allies, I will not harm them. If they betray her, like the last ones, I will kill them.” I would, in fact, prepare for that eventuality -- just in case. <em> No one </em> was laying a hand on her as long as I had control of the situation. </p><p>I trusted the massacre of Red Rum displayed just how well I could -- and would -- defend her. I trusted Darius would think of that and know, without a doubt, what I would do if this guild followed in the path of the Grand Grimoire. </p><p>The look Darius gave me was deep, as if he were trying to get in my mind -- or, I thought, as if he were finally beginning to understand me. At length, he leaned back in his seat, saying, “I see. And I have your word on that?” he prompted. “Your promise?” </p><p>I scowled. “I will not promise you anything, <em> hh’ainun,” </em> I shot back, disgusted by the concept. </p><p>“Then--” he started, alarmed. </p><p>Ignoring him, I twisted to face Robin. <em> “Payilas,” </em> I demanded her attention. “I will not harm your allies.” </p><p>She blinked, her emotions clashing in her mind. It was unhelpfully distracting. </p><p>She replied quietly, “Thank you, Zylas.” </p><p>Being <em> thanked </em> rankled. I spat, “If you were not so weak, you would not need any allies but me.” </p><p>Her expression dropped. “Every time you say something nice, you ruin it,” she complained. </p><p>“We talked about <em> nice,” </em> I replied sharply. It was pointless. That’s what we’d determined. </p><p>“And I told you being nice has benefits,” she retorted, disagreeing, “but you’re too stubborn to--” </p><p>Clearing his throat for attention, Darius said to Robin, “In lieu of a promise to me, I’ll accept his promise to you, but your abnormal contract must remain a secret, even here, Robin. I won’t implicate my entire guild in a coverup. If you’re discovered,” he warned, “I will have to turn you in.” </p><p>Robin was silent for a heartbeat before she all but leapt to agree -- stupidly. “I understand. Zylas is good at pretending to be properly contracted--” </p><p>“Enslaved,” I snapped. </p><p>“--as long as he can keep his mouth shut,” she finished, voice hardening. </p><p>I smirked. </p><p>Darius eyed us both. “Do you accept my offer, then, Robin? And...you as well, Zylas?” </p><p>“We accept,” she agreed quickly, then tossed me a harsh look. “Just be quiet for once,” she ordered. </p><p>I was tempted to tip her chair back the way I’d done to Amalia. </p><p>“Very well,” Darius said, relaxing. “There are more details to arrange, but for now, let’s adjourn this meeting. I’ll have my AGM start your paperwork. If all goes well, we can formally induct you within a week.” </p><p><em> Most </em> of those terms went over my head. Why was the <em> hh’ainun </em> world so complicated? Everything took time and a headache to complete. At least Robin seemed to understand; that was helpful. In fact, I was starting to see a trend with our relationship: what I did not understand, she did; what she did not, I did. This would work out, I determined. We filled in one another’s blank spots. </p><p>It was fitting. <em> We </em> fit. </p><p>She nodded at Darius. “Thank you, Darius. This is...we really appreciate it.” </p><p>A low grumble sounded in my throat at her mention of “we”. If I’d had my way, <em> we </em> would be nowhere near here right now. </p><p>Compromise, I reminded myself. She knew where she needed to be in order to do her part. I only needed to keep out of sight and protect her while she did so. </p><p>Her emotions settled then, and it was confusing. Why now, exactly? Darius had yet to reply; all he’d done was smile at her. Was that it, then? Was that all it took to calm her down when she leaned towards hysterics? A <em> smile? </em> </p><p>...How ridiculous. </p><p>“Welcome to the Crow and Hammer, Robin,” he said. </p><p>Her face pinched on a return smile, relief and joy filtering through our bond. She was <em> happy, </em> I realized. She looked on the verge of tears, yet she was happy. A part of me couldn’t blame her; she finally felt safe after the last week of what I now understood had been chaos and insanity for her. She hadn’t been prepared to handle everything that had happened, and now, at last, it was over. </p><p>...For the moment. </p><p>“Thank you,” she said again, getting up. Tugging at my sleeve, she pulled me to follow her and I did so, glad to be out of that <em> meeting. </em> Outside the room, with the door shut, she tilted her face up to me, her mind settling in a way I recognized: she had a decision in mind. </p><p>“Zylas, we have to do this right,” she warned under her breath, more fierce than she’d ever been. “This guild will keep me safe, and if I’m safe, I can focus on researching a way to get you home.” </p><p>I glowered down at her. “I <em> know </em> that, <em> payilas,” </em> I returned as quietly. “Why do you think I convinced him to accept you?” </p><p>She blinked up at me, surprised. Then the surprise shifted to understanding and she nodded to herself. <em> Ahktallis, </em> I thought; she was learning. She was learning how to protect herself, how to handle danger, and even how my own mind worked. She was learning the depth of <em> my </em> intelligence. </p><p>“Thank you,” she muttered, looking down, “for convincing him.” </p><p>...She still dropped her gaze too easily, though, I noted. Like this, she could not see anything -- neither threats nor escapes from the threats. I would have to work on that with her, or -- after I was gone -- she wouldn’t last too long. </p><p>“Find me a way home, <em> payilas,” </em> I told her, solemn. I’d done much to preserve her life and settle her affairs, and now it was her turn to show the same effort. </p><p>“I will,” she agreed. “I promise.” Then, inhaling a steady breath, she lifted her gaze again, straightening. “You’ll have to pretend to be enslaved when you’re outside the infernus. No more talking.” </p><p>That, again? “I know,” I complained; why did she think I needed these reminders? I shot back, “You will have to be smart when I am not with you -- if you can.” </p><p>She frowned at me, irritated. “I can handle it. And Zylas,” she added with more urgency, “if someone does find out this time, don’t kill them immediately. Darius knows about you now, so you can’t go around murdering people.” </p><p>I had already considered that -- but <em> not killing </em> and <em> stopping them from saying anything </em> were two completely different things. There were plenty of ways to stay a tongue. </p><p>Removing it was one really good method to do that. </p><p>My mind cast back to the subject of her mother’s grimoire, that inheritance she needed -- or simply wanted. Taking a look at the door, judging its ability to muffle noises and Darius’s place within the room beyond, I said, “You did not tell him about the grimoire.” </p><p>Lowering her voice, she replied, “No one can know about it. It’s too valuable and too dangerous. As soon as we’re set up with this guild,” she told me, “we’re going to find Uncle Jack and make him give up the grimoire.” </p><p>Anticipation hummed in my veins, drawing a dark grin across my face. I couldn’t wait to <em> make him </em> give up the grimoire. The moment I got my hands on him--</p><p>“You can’t kill him,” she interrupted my reverie. </p><p>My face fell, gaze landing on her again. Grumbling, I demanded, “Why not?” </p><p>“Because he’s my uncle!” she snapped. A point; I knew how much she valued her kin. Then, after a heartbeat, she added, “You can scare him, though. I think I’d like to see that.” </p><p>That drew a dark chuckle out of me, another thread of respect reaching me. “Closer, <em> payilas,” </em> I crooned. </p><p>“Closer to what?” she wondered, confused. </p><p>“To not being a weak <em> hh’ainun.” </em> </p><p>Her expression blanked to annoyance. </p><p> </p><p>--</p><p> </p><p>Seated on a stool, my tail swishing across the floor, I gazed before me at what had to be a veritable feast of sweet delicacies. When Robin had called me over to present it all, I hadn’t expected this much of it. </p><p>This place was new. It was better than the motel room, bigger, with more individual rooms. It was cleaner. It came with a “kitchen”, which I now understood was why Robin hadn’t been baking until now: she hadn’t had the required devices. But now that she did, she was displaying just how talented she was at this activity. </p><p>It’d taken a ridiculous amount of time, but now that I saw the results, I couldn’t begrudge her that. In the <em> hh’ainun </em> world, it seemed like <em> time </em> and <em> effort </em> were both required to get any task done, and at the same time, the amount of time and effort put into it increased the yield by a monumental degree. What was placed before me was evidence of that. </p><p>The smell was almost overpowering. Five different kinds of cookies were stacked on a large dish, all of them still hot; she had only taken them out of the “oven” a few minutes ago. Normally, she’d said, she would let them cool, but because I preferred the heat, she’d served them to me sooner than she usually would. </p><p>My stomach was pained with want and my mouth was watering. But even so, I couldn’t imagine eating <em> all </em> of them. There were entirely too many, the dish heaping, nearly overflowing. </p><p>“My best recipes,” she declared with a sweep of her arm at the feast. “Chocolate-dipped toffee butter cookies, salted caramel pretzel pecan cookies, red velvet and white chocolate cookies, raspberry almond shortbread cookies, and my personal favorite, marshmallow-stuffed s’more cookies.” </p><p>I memorized each one as she pointed them out, having a hard time with her terms. And, when I remained unmoving, unsure where to start and what would be best -- the smells were blending, making it difficult to determine -- her boisterous energy started to fall. </p><p>“Don’t you want to try them?” she prompted, hesitant. “This is part of our contract. You don’t need to trade for them.” </p><p>“This is...a lot,” I explained under my breath. That, and this particular task was daunting. Did she <em> expect </em> me to eat them all? “Why did you make so much?” </p><p>“Because you’ve been protecting me this whole time, and I wasn’t holding up my end of the deal. It wasn’t fair,” she admitted. Then, fidgeting, she added, “I also wasn’t sure what you’d like.” </p><p>I wasn’t sure, either. Tilting my head at the treats, I selected one. Raspberry almond shortbread. I gave it a sniff, checking its scent amongst the tangle of them, then bit it in half. My <em> payilas </em> stared at me, so I stared back. I hated when she did that. </p><p>The taste was...amazing. Sweet and fruity, and something else I had a harder time describing. I swallowed it. </p><p><em> “Chew,” </em> she sighed. </p><p><em> “Ch,” </em> I scoffed. Ignoring her, I finished the cookie, then moved on to the next. Marshmallow-stuffed s’more. I bit it in half; a string of sweetness connected the two halves, a delightful kind of surprise. I shoveled the rest in, swallowing. It was soft -- softer than her -- and so sweet I couldn’t decide if it was the best or worst one yet, the flavor almost overpowering. </p><p>Robin was growing more needy by the second. “Do you like them?” she checked. </p><p>I grabbed another. Red velvet and white chocolate. This one was very different from the last, even though they’d both been <em> chocolate, </em> I thought as I bit into it -- but in a good way. Interest speared me. Chocolate was a variety of flavors, then? Not just a single one? </p><p>She was getting annoyed, now. “You were so quick to tell me my blood tasted gross,” she complained, “but you can’t come up with a single observation about my baking?” </p><p>I smirked, letting her stew in irritation. Chocolate-dipped toffee butter. This one’s taste was -- different? Good, yes, as sweet as it smelled, but different. Where had she learned to make all these similar yet vastly varied flavors? </p><p>“You’re infuriating,” she drawled. </p><p>Amused, my tail slid across the floor. Salted caramel pretzel pecan. This one had a wholly unexpected zing to it, and it left behind a dollop of stringy sugar on my finger. I sucked it off. Robin turned her back, giving up. </p><p>Taking pity on her -- this was clearly important to her -- I spoke up. “In my world, there is a type of...tree.” That was the correct word, I thought. </p><p>My <em> payilas </em> pivoted, curious. </p><p>“On the tree, it grows small--” bringing my hands tightly together, I mimed something the size of a ball “--small fruits. The outside is poisonous, deadly, but inside is juicy and sweet. We fight over these trees. I have killed to take the fruit when it is ripe.” <em> Viciously, </em> I added silently. </p><p>Selecting one of the s’more cookies and displaying it, I told her, “These are better.” </p><p>She went still, and I couldn’t even begin to explain what her emotions were doing. They were...swelling, warming, growing? She appreciated my comparison, I understood that much, but beyond that, it was a mystery. Ignoring whatever was going on in her mind, I turned my attention back to the cookies, set on at least eating as many as I could. </p><p>After a moment she turned away, starting on the task of cleaning all the dishes she’d soiled in the making of this feast. I glanced up at her every so often while I devoured them, one by one, contemplating the creature she was. Why was I sensing so much raw joy from her, and from <em> this, </em> of all things? She felt similar to how I did when I killed a <em> Dīnen. </em> </p><p>It was odd, but if this was the way she felt accomplished and victorious, who was I to say otherwise? </p><p>Eventually my claws rapped on the dish, unable to find any more cookies, and I stared down at it in shock. I’d really eaten <em> all </em> of them? A hint of uncertainty reached me, unsure if this would be bad for me in the long run. I didn’t think I’d ever eaten this much before, not ever. My memories of my childhood were difficult to recall, but I doubted my own mother had ever fed me <em> this </em> much. </p><p>Something twisted and burned in me at the thought, a connection attempting to tie <em> her </em> with my <em> payilas. </em> I shelved it, feeling weirdly sluggish in my limbs. Was that...supposed to happen? Without deciding to, I wandered towards the bigger room, taking a look around yet not seeing anything. Eventually, my gaze dropped to soft cloth under my feet. A blanket, folded on the floor. That’s right; I remembered my <em> payilas </em> putting it here. She’d used it as a seat earlier, given there were none in here yet. </p><p>I sank down onto it, settling, then laid out on my back. Absently, my hands unbuckled and removed my armor, making it easier to relax. I felt Robin glancing my way, but she didn’t seem concerned; that meant this was fine, <em> na? </em> I felt slow and heavy, but it was okay? </p><p>Time slipped past. My <em> payilas </em> was moving almost every time I noticed her. She had more energy than I’d thought she did, constantly straightening the rooms and wandering between them with intent. Even when she finally stopped moving and sat down near me with a book, she radiated energy. It was kind of funny. Normally <em> I </em> was the one with an abundance of energy, but right then I felt sluggish and pleasant and -- and that wasn’t normal, but it felt too good for me to care. </p><p>What was in those cookies? It had to be more than just the sweets and the chocolates and the almonds and whatever else… </p><p>I had a hard time keeping my eyes open. After a while I stopped even trying. And it seemed that every time I glanced at the glass doors, the sun had moved a significant amount. As the night dragged on, I lost myself more and more to the lure of sleep. </p><p>Sometime later, Robin jostled me awake. I growled out of reflex before recognizing her, then realized I was draped limply half on top of the blanket, face-down, my face in the crook of my arm. <em> Ih? </em> When had I moved? My <em> payilas </em> was saying it was time to go. With a grumble and a hefty amount of effort, I forced myself up, leaving the warmth of the blanket with regret. </p><p>Still somewhat dazed, I made the fabric a vague promise to come back, then shook myself and got my armor back on. It was time for our formal introduction to the guild. </p><p>I frowned at the sky as I groggily got my bearings. So late? Weren’t we supposed to be there earlier? As soon as I was ready -- Amalia was not, I noticed; I scowled at her in confusion and disappointment -- I went into the infernus. It actually almost felt good, having no body right then. My stomach felt...stiff, yet also soft. </p><p>The females talked as they traveled. I could hear them clearly now, practice making it easier. I wasn’t listening very closely, still shaking off the effects of the cookies and the slumber I’d enjoyed, but I caught the subjects well enough. </p><p>I only snapped to attention when I heard Amalia reveal that she’d caught on to my contract not functioning correctly. She’d recognized that my actions had directly caused Robin to get cut by Karlson. That pulled me out of my daze completely, and I wondered how much else Amalia had noticed. Would I have to talk to her about this? </p><p>No, I decided. If I scared her too much, she might simply run and tell the MPD. I would just have to watch her. Besides, all she had was a guess. If I confronted her, it would confirm that she was right. </p><p>I couldn’t let Robin know about this. I couldn’t tell her what I’d learned. If she knew...if she even suspected...if I revealed that the contract neither bound nor compelled me… </p><p>The result was entirely too obvious. She already feared me as it was. If she thought for even a second that there was <em> nothing </em> binding me, nothing at all keeping my claws at bay, she would be even more afraid. Nothing would get done. She might even turn herself in of her own volition. And she would absolutely stop trusting me. She would pull away, distance herself. Maybe she would decide that all her devotion had been misplaced and take it back. </p><p>Maybe she would betray me. </p><p>I couldn’t risk it. The idea scared me and caused an unpleasant, almost painful twisting in my chest. No -- she couldn’t find out. I would just continue doing as I’d done this entire time and leave her in the dark. </p><p>She was safe in the dark, I assured myself. </p><p>I would <em> keep </em>her safe in the dark. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Taming Demons for Beginners - end.</p><p>HUGE NOTE: So I was completely wrong in what I was imagining for the "your demon's expression was fascinating" scene. Apparently Zylas gives Robin a look like "I'm sorry, you're WHAT LMAO you're crazy, payilas". </p><p>Evidence: https://www.instagram.com/p/B-xz8x0AGeO/</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Book 2, Chapter 1-3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Slaying Monsters for the Feeble: start.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I was in Hell. </p><p>Maybe that was an exaggeration, I corrected. It was boring and stupid in the infernus, as always, but it was still better than a particularly aggravating hunt on Ahlēavah. It was just that once the novelty of being weightless and ungrounded wore off, being in this expanse was the most droll thing in existence. </p><p>There was no gravity, no weight. Whether I was standing, laying, or flipped upside down was a matter of perspective. There was nothing to see, nothing to do. Speaking was disconcerting, the sound failing to carry or echo the way one would expect in this situation. In fact, the only sounds that carried were those coming from beyond the infernus, in the physical world. </p><p>That made it all the more bizarre. </p><p>My only source of entertainment was Robin’s thoughts, and right now, even her thoughts were excruciating. </p><p>She was in a library -- which, I knew, was a good thing. It meant she was finally doing her research, as she’d promised <em> weeks </em> ago but had only begun just today. And, for the life of me, I couldn’t find anything remotely interesting about her thoughts. </p><p>She was enjoying this venture. In her mind, she listed book titles, her emotions spiraling with want only to dull with disappointment when she reminded herself that she wasn’t here for any of these <em> arcana </em> subjects. As she went, she made mental notes of books that she wanted to read and others that she felt would be useful, and I groaned into the emptiness. </p><p>Great. Now I had those book titles in my head. I needed to get better at blocking her out, I decided. Would sleeping help? I gave it a try, but right now I wasn’t at all tired. If anything, I was involuntarily riveted, focused despite myself -- because, <em> finally, </em> she might begin learning how to send me home! I couldn’t help keeping aware of her, waiting impatiently for the information to be discovered. </p><p>I’d made it a very clear rule of our relationship that she was not to ever leave the apartment without the infernus -- more specifically, without <em> me </em>-- in case anything like what happened with Red Rum happened again, and she’d agreed. But the downside to that was the fact that it meant I was dying of boredom in the interim. </p><p>At least it was giving me time to work on blocking out her thoughts. I didn’t want my head filled with her ramblings of partially-read sentences and book titles. And it was going pretty well, once I’d focused on it. </p><p><em> “Daimon, anastethi,” </em> I heard her voice say, both through the infernus and in my own mind. And just like that, I was pulled out, as if I’d chosen to do so. </p><p>But, bizarrely, I didn’t have control over where I manifested. It was as if she’d placed me somewhere, and as the area built up around me, I found myself between rows of tomes on shelves. Robin, my exceedingly foolish <em> payilas, </em> was standing a little ways in front of me, the infernus held in one hand, an open book in the other, looking flabbergasted. </p><p>A scowl parted my lips, my eyes narrowing on her. “What did you do, <em> payilas?” </em> I growled. </p><p>Startled out of her stun, her gaze darted across the room, head snapping as she looked for any other people who might’ve noticed my appearance. Then she stared down at the book for another moment, and finally back up to me, still silent. </p><p>My patience threatened to tear. <em> “Payilas,” </em> I warned. </p><p>“Um,” she offered, lifting the book in her hand. “I found the commands for the infernus?” </p><p>The infernus had commands? I glowered at her as that thought was answered: of course it did. Contracted demons had no control; they couldn’t go into or out of their <em>imailatē</em> on their own. I hadn’t considered it before, but it made sense that the infernus would have commands. </p><p>I lamented that Robin had found them. She now knew how to force me out of it; what else had she learned with that tome? </p><p>I put it aside for the moment, taking another look around this area. Was it safe? I sniffed as I looked and listened, frowning at the mixture of scents that assaulted my nose. For the most part, it smelled like the library beneath Jack’s home, but it also smelled like many other things -- and <em> hh’ainun. </em> Many of them. Different ones, most of the scents old, some of them new. <em> Vīsh </em>was everywhere. </p><p>“What is this place?” I asked my <em> payilas, </em> doubting that this area and Jack’s library were the same thing. This was much bigger, from what I could see, and those mixtures of scents...it was distracting and completely different from the way the library had smelled. </p><p>Like <em> vīsh, </em> but also like smoke, and...and…? It was so difficult to narrow down. Metals? Cloths? Wood and leather, too? The faintest sting managed to assault my nose as I tried to pinpoint it. </p><p>“It’s a library,” she answered, “part of the Arcana Historia guild. Which, uh, means you should go back in the infernus before someone sees you,” she hinted. </p><p>So it <em> was </em> a library, too. I angled my head, listening more closely, but there were no sounds of humans. No breathing, no footsteps, no motions at all. It was empty except for us. </p><p>It was also new and curious -- and a break from the monotony of the infernus. I would be careful -- I would uphold our bargains -- but I wasn’t about to go back <em> now. </em> </p><p>“There is no one close,” I dismissed her concern. Then, gesturing the area, I checked, “What you need, is it here?” Would these tomes provide the answers we both sought? </p><p>“I don’t know,” she shrugged, still radiating tension. “I only just started looking. Will you get back in the infernus now?” </p><p>There was her anger again, rising to the fore. I’d missed that over the last dozen days; her fire had completely snuffed out. It’d been boring without her extreme reactions to everything. </p><p>My reply was a mocking grin. </p><p>Her face pinched in the way I knew meant she was thinking aggressive thoughts. Then, focusing, her gaze dropped to the infernus. </p><p>Her thoughts speared me: <em> Daimon, hechaze! </em> </p><p>I tensed reflexively, but nothing happened. <em> Aha, </em> had she said the words wrong? She turned her gaze to the book -- to check it, no doubt -- and I promptly yanked it from her hold. Her expression washed with shock and, after giving the book a thought, I decided to put it where she could not reach it. Aiming for the tallest shelf, I placed it with the other books. I’d considered destroying it, but that would be a clue, wouldn’t it? A clue that could lead back to us both. </p><p>Furious glare in place, Robin spun to face the shelves, struggling to think. More words flickered in her mind: <em> Hecheze… hesachaze… hesychaza… </em> </p><p>I stepped up behind her, intentionally trying to distract her. That, and I’d missed cornering her like this. Her reactions were always amusing and her scent was so thick this close; it simply felt good. My hand lifted of its own accord, a claw drifting up her back so lightly I doubted she could feel it. </p><p>Or maybe she did, because threw a glare over her shoulder at me, snapping quietly, “Back up. I can’t concentrate.” </p><p>I canted my head. “Concentrate on what? You are not doing anything,” I pointed out, still exactly where I wanted to be. When she scowled harder, I added, “You have not done anything for <em> weeks. </em> Days and days of nothing but sleep and lounge and sleep--” </p><p>“I wasn’t sleeping because I’m lazy,” she interrupted fiercely. “I was sick. I had the flu.” </p><p>Which I fully understood, but it didn’t change the fact that her ire was entertaining. “You promised to search for a way I can return home,” I reminded her. </p><p>“And I am,” she defended. “Right now. Or I would be if you’d stop bothering me.” Then, snatching a book from the shelf that I’m certain she hadn’t so much as looked at first, she said, “The more you distract me, the longer this will take.” </p><p>That evaporated my humor. Dropping my hand, I moved away, checking the area around again for lack of anything else to do. Being idle like this was aggravating. I didn’t even have any of Robin’s sweets to help pass the time. </p><p>I prowled towards the end of the passage, sniffing. There was a smell that kept drawing my attention, though it was so faint I couldn’t determine why. What was this? It hinted at something, but with all these other scents, I didn’t know why. </p><p>
  <em> ...infuriatingly stubborn. And deliberately contrary. Defiant. Ornery. Contentious to the point of-- </em>
</p><p>“Should I describe <em> you, payilas?” </em> I interrupted sharply. From the corner of my eye, she gave a subtle wince. </p><p>It didn’t irritate me that she thought such things about me -- her assessment was correct, after all; I recognized this -- but rather that she <em> only </em> shared <em> those </em> thoughts with me. I was learning that, too: the only times I heard her thoughts was when she wanted me to hear them, and most of the time, those thoughts were negative judgements of <em> me. </em> It rankled. </p><p>Either she’d forgotten about my repeated self-sacrificing acts and steadfast defense of her during the last few weeks or she was intentionally hiding her thoughts about it. I’d done far more for her benefit than I ever had of any other, and she still only had insults for me in her mind. </p><p>Vindictive, I threw an insult <em> her </em> way, testing again to see if she might hear <em> my </em> thoughts. </p><p>Silence greeted me, my <em> payilas </em> giving no reaction. Disappointed and increasingly annoyed, I turned my attention from her. </p><p>Crouching low, I peered around the edge of the shelves, getting a better lay of the area. My nostrils flared as I followed that elusive, alluring scent, determining its path. I wanted to know what it was before I left here. </p><p>Her mind was quiet for a moment, and then a snippet reached me: <em> Is demonic violence a product of the demons’ mysterious home environment, or, as long believed to be the case, are they born monsters? </em> </p><p>Fury boiled. <em> Hh’ainun </em> thought this? They had no idea! It was <em> their </em> fault we hated humans so much, <em> their </em> fault we showed them so much violence! </p><p>I felt my tail snap with anger, then forced it to subside. I was looking for something, I reminded myself. <em> This way. </em> </p><p>Once I was sure the path was clear, I prowled around the corner, glancing left and right down each passage as I passed them. Rows and rows and rows of tomes, seemingly endless; could <em> hh’ainun </em> live long enough to read all of these? And who had written them? Did Robin wish to read them all? I knew her interest in such things; had many tomes had she read already? </p><p>The smell was becoming clearer, and as it did so, my gaze narrowed with increasing suspicion. This metallic tinge -- it was blood. Blood, in a place of knowledge? Why? Was it safe? Was my <em> payilas </em> safe to be here? </p><p><em> Impact. </em> </p><p>Robin had smacked into me. I’d known she was coming. Her footsteps were so loud, I doubted anyone <em> wouldn’t </em> have heard her. </p><p>“What are you doing?” she bit out under her breath, yanking on my arm. “Get back in the infernus before someone sees you!” </p><p>“Be quiet,” I shot back, ignoring her pulls. I could hear voices from here -- two of them. Others were nearby; they would hear her noise. </p><p>Tugging again, she hissed with her ineffectual heaves, “You need to -- get -- back -- over -- <em> here.” </em> </p><p>It was funny, honestly. She wasn’t moving me in the slightest, despite putting her full weight behind the tugs. And then -- predictably -- her grip failed and she flung backwards. I didn’t think anything of it...until I heard a chair smacking into a table, then even <em> more </em> noise as I swung a look on Robin and caught her shoving the chair back into place with far more force and urgency than necessary. </p><p>She glanced up, eyes wide. </p><p><em> “Dahganul,” </em> I bit out at her. <em> Must </em> she be so clumsy and noisy all the time? </p><p>Movement, then. Footsteps, heavy and quick, heading our way. Robin made another wholly ineffectual lunge, trying to shove me, and I gave her an annoyed look before crouching to slip underneath a table. <em> My </em> motions, I noticed with a sense of pride and heavy dose of condescension, made no noise whatsoever. </p><p>Then, flying in the face of all logic, she dove under the table after me. Shoving her back out would draw too much <em> attention, </em> so I had little choice except to let her cram herself in the cramped space beside me. </p><p>And then she sat on my tail. </p><p>Had she <em> no </em> sense of spatial awareness at all?? </p><p>Leaning towards her, I directed on a quiet breath, “Move.” It didn’t hurt, but it was aggravating in a completely different way. </p><p>She flinched away from my lean but remained exactly where she was, her weight shifting uncomfortably on my tail. “Huh?” was her latest brilliant response. </p><p>“Move, <em> payilas,” </em> I repeated, withholding a growl with difficulty. </p><p>Equally quiet, she shot back, “Why? We need to--” </p><p>The footsteps were rapidly approaching. With little time left to explain, I bit out, “You are on my tail.” </p><p>She blinked, then looked down, then to her right, recognizing her positioning at last. Her face darkened to red -- <em> now? </em> Why? What was the purpose behind her face changing colors like that? I was curious despite the situation, despite my own pique. </p><p>“There’s nowhere to move,” she mumbled back. “Can you just wait?” </p><p>I scowled at her. Would <em> she </em> be willing to wait if I were sitting on her -- on her -- she had no tail; what was the equivalent? -- her... leg? </p><p>Annoyed by my annoyance, she hissed, “This is your fault, you know. Why are you wandering around where anyone can see you?” </p><p>Offense flared. <em> My </em> fault, was it? <em> She </em> was the one who kept overreacting to everything! </p><p>“I would not be seen,” I shot back. <em> “You </em> made noise, not me.” </p><p>With effort, she closed her mouth before the footsteps reached us. <em> Librarian, </em> her mind supplied me. Was this to mean someone who lived in a library? Maybe someone who wrote the books? The female -- was she a female? Robin’s mind identified her as such, but I could only see feet -- passed by, seeking. </p><p>Once she was far enough away, I returned to the argument. I had more to say. </p><p>“You are useless,” I accused under my breath. “You walk loud and talk loud and breathe loud--” </p><p>“I do not <em> breathe </em> loud,” she retorted, incensed. She finally pushed herself forward, then, and I took the opportunity to swish my tail backwards where she couldn’t get to it again. </p><p>A demon’s tail was private and intimate; didn’t she know that? We didn’t even target one another’s tails in a fight. It was an unwritten rule, one we all respected. Of course, in cases like Tahēsh, that was problematic, given his tail could be used as a weapon. Even so, we didn’t <em> touch </em> one another’s tails -- and Robin had just...sat on mine. Like it was nothing. Like it was <em> okay. </em> </p><p>I scowled at her as she edged forward -- then, recognizing what she clearly didn’t, I seized her sweater and tugged her backwards. More footsteps were approaching -- quieter, yes, but there nonetheless. Someone else was coming. </p><p>She tumbled backward and directly into my lap. I held her there almost by reflex, a hand clamping over her mouth so she could neither speak nor breathe in her obnoxious way, my other hand on her waist -- a warning and a restraint. </p><p>At once, I was reminded of something I’d nearly forgotten: how ridiculously soft she was. Maybe it was partly the clothing she wore, I thought as the second set of footsteps passed by. Maybe it wasn’t <em> all </em> her. But she felt so small and nice against me like this, and her scent was thick and lulling. It felt good to hold her close -- soothing, in a stupid way. </p><p>The new feet pivoted down an aisle -- out of sight. I let out a soft exhale. Her clumsiness hadn’t got us caught, at least. Then, drawn in by that scent of hers, I sought out its point of origin: a spot underneath her ear. The way she spasmed and twisted when my nose bumped into her was, honestly, better than her scent, itself. My chest rumbled with a silent chuckle, amused, and then I put my thoughts back in order. </p><p>The scent of blood from before. I needed to know what it was. </p><p>I pushed her off me and slid over her form, through the chairs, and back out from under the table. One glance down the way the <em> librarian </em> and the other <em> hh’ainun </em> had gone confirmed that neither had returned yet. I could hear their voices, quiet whispers, discussing. </p><p>I could also hear my <em> payilas, </em> muttering angry, rude comments under her breath. She was following me again. </p><p>“Zylas!” she hissed as I prowled, alert. Clearly controlling her movements -- for not much benefit, I added silently -- she demanded, “Where are you going?” </p><p>Following the scent and pausing at each intersection for which way it led, I answered, “This way.” I had no other way to answer it; I didn’t know what each part of the library was called. </p><p>“Which way?” she demanded. “What are you--” </p><p>Her words cut off when I pivoted, the scent leading down a -- a hallway, it was called? A corridor? The need to discover the source of this was growing more urgent -- because it had finally occurred to me why it was pricking at my mind so much. </p><p>It was <em> demon </em> blood. </p><p>I came up to a door, examined it. </p><p>“We’re not allowed in there,” she hissed, panic starting to reach her. </p><p>Ignoring her, I took hold of the handle -- and received a shock of pain from it. A <em> vīsh, </em> I concluded, watching as it danced from my hand up my wrist. The pain was hardly worth noting, though I didn’t doubt it would repel a human. And the spell, itself, answered a question: it wasn’t empowering the door, it was just defensive pain. </p><p>It was also continuing, which was annoying. I slammed my shoulder into the door and it rent open, my strength more than enough for this weak human construction. The spell fizzled out. </p><p>New, stronger scents rushed to me. I sniffed the air, isolating them one by one. Most were foreign, but in the mix, two stood out: </p><p>Demon’s blood, and <em> hh’ainun vīsh.  </em></p><p>From the same place. </p><p>“Zylas, we can’t--” Robin started. </p><p>Drawn by the scent, I passed through the threshold, eying the room. Robin’s emotions changed, then, recognition taking hold; she knew what this place was, then? Many books were laid out on tables, carefully arranged and all in pieces. Tools of various types and sizes were everywhere, most of which I had no names for but I assumed all were used in...whatever was going on with the gutted books. </p><p>Quiet, subdued yearning flowed from her mind, something solemn and sorrowful banked there. A ferocious kind of curiosity ignited in me in response, wondering why her reactions to this room were so strong -- and conflicted. With difficulty, I forced it aside, keeping my focus on the task at hand. </p><p>There was something not right about this “library”. </p><p>My feet carried me to the largest table, but with a sniff, I confirmed that the scent I was tracking wasn’t coming from any of these objects. I pivoted, seeking, coming to a series of ceiling-height storage boxes. The scent lured me to the one on the end, and then I noticed the lock on the door of it. </p><p>I could wrench that apart no problem. </p><p>Then, eying the runes glowing on it, I amended my thought: <em> after </em> I’d broken through the <em> vīsh, </em> I could wrench it apart. </p><p>Robin kept almost on my heels, moving softly and cautiously. “What is it?” she asked, recognizing only now that I wasn’t doing all this on a whim. </p><p>I gave another sniff, confirming my suspicions. “I smell blood,” I told her. Her breath caught. “Old. Faint,” I added. Agitation had my tail flicking as I growled low, “The scent of demon blood and magic.” </p><p>Determined to know what it was and why, I reached for the lock; my <em> payilas </em>snagged my wrist, halting the movement not from strength but from surprise. After I’d told her this much, she still didn’t think this was worth investigating? </p><p>“Don’t,” she breathed, half a beg and half an order. </p><p>I considered it for less than a heartbeat; she pulled harder on me, though it did nothing to move me. Her refusal to allow me this solidified my decision: I reached again. Her grip held, her feet sliding across the smooth floor. </p><p><em> “Daimon, hesychaze!” </em> </p><p>Power and <em> vīsh </em> filled me, pulling me apart the way it always did when I chose to enter our infernus. I swung a hard, enraged glare on her just before the magic finished, sending me back into the <em> imailatē. </em> Within, fury had me snarling and shouting in the endless void from within, my wrath and disbelief boiling over. </p><p>She’d sent me here against my will! Worse, her thoughts echoed this fact -- with stun and pride. Pride! She was <em> proud </em> of this! <em> I did not give you my will, </em> I’d told her once -- but with this, she was forcing me to obey her will anyway! </p><p>I snarled at her in vicious warning, even knowing she couldn’t hear me. I would forgive this trespass <em> once </em> -- because I knew how skittish she was, how easily she panicked. But if she did it again, I wouldn’t be so magnanimous. If she did it again, I would teach her why trying to bend me would end badly for her. </p><p>My one tiny shred of compensation was her immediate horror following my disappearance. She’d been found by the librarian, her mind suggested, alone in a room where she should not be. </p><p><em> Hah. </em> </p><p> </p><p>-- </p><p> </p><p>I yawned in the darkness, bored. My <em> payilas </em> had moved on from the library to her guild, and that meant I had to stay right where I was. I needed to figure out a way to entertain myself in the infernus, I decided. The last few weeks had been a blessing compared to this; Robin staying in the apartment for so long had meant I hadn’t had to go in the infernus at all during that time. </p><p>I hadn’t considered until now how much I’d been spoiling myself by staying out all the time. Now I was even <em> less </em> comfortable being here than I’d been since the beginning of our contract. </p><p>A lot was happening on Robin’s side of things, but even that was boring. Well, not boring -- more like frustrating and irritating. She’d wandered into a group of the others, it seemed, and they were challenging and judging her, and I knew she wouldn’t stand up for herself. Sure enough, I <em> felt </em> her shrinking in on herself as the punishment continued -- until her attention diverted. </p><p>Someone was calling to her. Through our connection, I recognized what she did: the redheaded female who’d left with the first-rank demon scent from a month prior. <em> Bartender, </em> Robin’s mind suggested; this was a...job, <em> na? </em> I still didn’t understand the point of <em> jobs, </em> but it seemed to be some intrinsic, vital part of the human world. </p><p>What was far more interesting was the knowledge that one of those four worked here -- which meant she could be found here nearly any time. I didn’t have the freedom to investigate on my own, especially not in a <em> guild </em> full of <em> mythics, </em> but it was something to ponder, at least. It lifted the boredom just a little. </p><p>Huffing, I realized the encounter wasn’t over yet. The one who’d been pestering my <em> payilas </em> was still after her, and it irked me. Only <em> I </em> could irritate and intimidate her like that. She was <em> my hh’ainun. </em> </p><p><em> “Don’t let him push you around.” </em> </p><p><em> Na, </em> that was “Tori”? I liked her on principle. </p><p>
  <em> Zylas, are you paying attention? </em>
</p><p><em> Na -- always, </em> I replied, then scowled. She still couldn’t hear me. Was I doing something wrong? Why could <em> she </em> share her thoughts so easily, and I could not? Was it a human thing? </p><p><em> “Would you like to see my demon? Right now?” </em>she was saying. </p><p>I heaved a sigh. I preferred being called out to hunt something rather than stand there blankly for another round of judgement, but I’d promised to <em> pretend. </em> I trusted she wouldn’t do this for her own amusement, that this was a necessary part of our pact. </p><p><em> “Yeah, let’s see it,” </em> the male returned, challenging. </p><p>I readied myself, focusing. </p><p><em> Let’s play the game, Zylas, </em> her words whispered through my mind. A sensation flowed at the same time, strangely able to feel her soft skin running over the infernus as a phantom touch through my own mind. It was equal parts alluring and revolting; I didn’t like that I could feel things like this, but...no matter the form, I couldn’t deny that I liked her touch. </p><p>Ignoring it, I stepped out. For the first time, I saw the inside of the <em> guild house, </em> but I only had a split second to focus on it before I found a spot and stood there. Robin at my side, a wooden half-wall at my back, Tori on its other side -- and this male before me. <em> Darren, </em> Robin’s mind identified him. </p><p>I wanted to laugh. <em> This </em> was the one causing her so much fear? He was taller and broader than I was, sure, but <em> hh’ainun </em> were weak. Even without focusing on his features, I could tell that it would be easy to ruin him. </p><p>The room itself was packed, humans everywhere, and a chorus of gasps sounded at my appearance. They had all stopped to watch this, all eyes on me. I hated it, but based on what I’d been hearing of Robin’s thoughts and feelings, they’d been tormenting her. If I had to display my power a bit to get them to stop, so be it. </p><p>This place was supposed to be safe for her. It clearly wasn’t -- not yet. I aimed to change that. </p><p>“Seriously?” someone called, mocking. </p><p>Darren edged closer, standing up taller, smirking. <em> “This </em> is your demon?” he directed at my <em> payilas. </em> “I’ve never seen such a small, pathetic demon in my life!” </p><p>A female added to another, “Do you think she got it for cheap because it’s a runt?” </p><p>It was difficult not to laugh, and I felt my tail give a flick just out of my control. These <em> hh’ainun </em> were stupid. Because they had never seen a demon like me before, they assumed I was weak? Because they had never seen something before, they knew all about it? <em> Na, </em> they would live <em> very </em> long thinking this. </p><p>“Forgetting something, dumbasses?” Tori interrupted their whispering and chortling. “Robin and her demon killed the unbound one on Halloween. <em> Obviously </em> they’re not weak,” she pointed out. </p><p>“Not weak?” Darren echoed, amused. Hand lifting, he declared, “This thing couldn’t--” </p><p>“Don’t touch him,” Robin warned swiftly, her voice cold. </p><p>Her comment briefly startled the male -- who then decided his bravado was more important than his survival. His hand smacked into my chestplate, but I barely had to tense to resist the push; he was forced back, unbalanced. Baffled, he examined his hand and me, back and forth. </p><p>In her mind, I heard my <em> payilas </em> repeat the words Tori had spoken before: <em> Don’t let him push you around. </em> </p><p>A swirl of dark tinted her otherwise bright mind, and she prompted, <em> Zylas? </em> </p><p>Quick as lightning, I snatched the male by the throat. He barely had a split second to look terrified before I hefted him up and twisted, slamming him down on the bar with a heavy thud -- intentionally putting the male’s flailing body between us. I wanted her to <em> see </em> how I held him, how I protected her in this admittedly mundane and stupid way. </p><p><em> Not too rough, </em> she directed, but it only had the opposite effect. </p><p>I pushed him further back, forcing his head backwards. This male would <em> never </em> torment her again. I would make sure of that. </p><p>As I held, I listened, keeping the room in my awareness. Lots of people were whispering, but none were <em> chanting. </em> No one was coming to this male’s defense? They were smart, then. They knew he deserved this pain. </p><p><em> ...prove our strength, </em> her mind whispered. </p><p>The phantom warmth I’d felt once before returned. <em> Our </em> strength. We were a team, she’d said -- partners. And sure, I was doing <em> all </em> the work, but a part of me involuntarily clung to those words. <em> Ally, </em> I thought not for the first time -- then forced the thought away. <em> Focus. </em> </p><p>“Can I have a water, please, Tori?” Robin asked. </p><p>Tori didn’t react immediately. I couldn’t see her clearly from my angle, but after a second she pulled herself together and gave Robin a drink. I wondered if that was her <em> job: </em> giving other <em> hh’ainun </em> drinks. </p><p><em> ...probably bored out of his mind, </em> Robin thought towards me. </p><p>It <em> was </em> grating, I admitted, mildly pleased that she at least knew me <em> this </em> well. </p><p>A scent reached me, recognition sparking. </p><p><em> One more minute. Then-- </em> she started. </p><p><em> The fourth demon. </em> Involuntarily, my head snapped up, eyes flicking towards the source, vaguely aware that everyone else nearby leapt back from the sudden movement-- </p><p><em> Back in the infernus! </em> </p><p>The three males from the park, I saw as my awareness sucked inwards, my body vanishing under the spirit command. First male, black hair, dark eyes. Second male, orange-red hair, blue eyes. Third male, brown hair, one blind eye. </p><p>Back in the grey expanse, I gazed at nothing, my mind reeling. One of those males was in contact with a first-rank demon, somehow, but Robin was the only Demonica mythic in the guild. The others shouldn’t have any reason for smelling like a demon. Suspicion and curiosity burned in me. Who were they? Were they unsafe? Would my <em> payilas </em> be safe around them? </p><p><em> This guild was supposed to be my haven, but it might be a viper pit in disguise, </em> she was thinking. </p><p>I didn’t understand all of those words, but I understood what she meant: she was worried, too. Darius had promised us both safety and anonymity here. But what if those others had a secret Darius did not know? What if they threatened Robin? </p><p>The answer to that was firmly cemented in my mind. </p><p><em> Then I will kill them. </em> </p><p> </p><p>--</p><p> </p><p>The boring part had returned -- this time worse than before. Darius King had called a meeting, and only his voice was heard as he spoke to the group. Too far for me to hear distinct words, I could only understand what Robin directly repeated in her mind. And it was…</p><p>...there were no words for how tedious it was. </p><p>He spoke of events, numbers, rules, jobs, money, and the other guild members -- none of which I cared at all to hear. I started intentionally blocking it out. Unless Robin had something more meaningful to share, I wanted to hear <em> none </em> of this. </p><p>At that thought, loneliness descended. I must’ve been taking the previous weeks for granted, I realized. Being able to be around my <em> payilas </em> -- physically there, able to see and speak to her, even able to smell her -- compared to now, only able to feel her mind and hear occasional thoughts...it grated. When had I become so reliant on her presence? </p><p>Bored mindless and yearning to be anywhere but <em> here, </em> I coiled up on myself, staring out at the emptiness. It did nothing to ease the gloomy, aggravated feelings in me. I could only sit and stare and wait, vainly and desperately wishing for...more. </p><p><em> Entertain yourself, </em> I coached myself. </p><p>But...I could think of nothing. In the past, <em> fun </em> had meant stalking, hunting, terrifying others and ripping them apart. With glee, I had eviscerated numerous Dīnen, amusing myself with their pained howls and spilled entrails. Tahēsh had been the latest conquest, his head torn clear of his shoulders, but far from my first. </p><p>Now I could not hunt. I was limited in all ways, trapped in the <em> hh’ainun </em> world for an unknown length of time, forced to stay my claws and fake obedience and compromise with a <em> payilas… </em> </p><p>An ache filled the gaps in my awareness. As much as I’d come to like Robin, with her skittish tendencies and delicious foods and softness, I still hated it here. Every day was grating, even as I recognized the relative ease of living here compared to Ahlēavah. There, I had to always be focused, always be aware; here, I could relax. I didn’t have to pay attention to every flicker of light, every sound, every scent. </p><p>Yet it didn’t make the frustration any better. These worlds were similar in certain ways -- namely my inability to show my face without the threat of death looming in the distance -- and the isolation of it was the same, but at least I <em> knew </em> Ahlēavah. </p><p>I knew the ground, the sky, the scents. I knew the plants and animals. I knew what was a threat and what was not. I could react the ways I knew, the ways I had been <em> trained </em> to react. I could use my <em> vīsh </em>as I needed. I could speak and move and plot. Anything I wanted, I could take; anything I disliked, I could kill. There were no social constructs like here, things I had to navigate carefully so I didn’t end up endangering the one being I had sworn to protect. </p><p>The one being both willing and determined to help me get back home. </p><p><em> Home, </em> my mind echoed, an intense hollowness overtaking me to rival the emptiness in which I existed. Ahlēavah. Home. <em> My </em> home. </p><p>Unease and distaste twisted in me. The yearning to return was still a burning desire somewhere outside the hollowness, but now it was tinged with dislike. It didn’t feel quite right anymore. And I understood. Now that I had tasted this new <em> hh’ainun </em> world, I had two worlds in my mind, and I wouldn’t try to deny they didn’t both have their appeal. </p><p>Would I miss it, I wondered? When I went back to Ahlēavah, would I miss Earth? Its foods and scents and odd sky and human construction? I couldn’t answer that question, but a part of me feared the truth: I would. </p><p>I would, at least, miss <em> some </em> things… </p><p>The hollowness began to sting. Staring out ahead of me, desperately trying to pretend that I was actually, physically holding myself, my thoughts swirled and jumbled and collided. It was aggravating, angering, frustrating -- and, present as always, lonely. </p><p>I hated it, hated the way it made my chest compress under nothing, filled with nothing, exuding <em> nothing. </em> </p><p>Then, something...changed. I couldn’t explain it at first. The grey void seemed to tilt, to change, color blooming to life. Blinking, confused, I struggled to understand; it was as much real as it was imagined, I thought. Anytime I tried to focus, the changes reverted, even as the color brightened. It was...gold, I realized, like the rays of the sun. </p><p>Scanning the area in front of me, unable to grasp the conflicting information, I cast my mind out of the infernus. Where was Robin? I reached to her, but she was silent, unmoving -- not unconscious, I thought, yet eerily still in all ways. Was she alright? </p><p>Warmth, then. Impossible yet present all the same, I looked for it, my gaze traveling over my shoulder-- </p><p>...<em> Ih? </em> </p><p>The light -- it was...this? I could focus on it, unlike the other places. It was a formless bundle of golden light, warm and alluring and very much not supposed to be here. And as I watched it, reaching for it without thought, I could glimpse flickers of bright, gorgeous blues in its center. It gleamed like -- like Ahlēavah’s sun, blazing brightly, the promise of life...</p><p>The same color as Robin’s eyes. </p><p>Was this...<em> her? </em> Had she--</p><p>It was gone. </p><p>I jolted violently, a shudder tearing through me as I fought to understand. Was that her presence? It felt -- tasted -- like her, I thought, but the way it had left...it clashed with how it’d appeared. The slow, warm bloom of it had so gently come to me, only to then vanish in an instant. </p><p>Why? What was going on? </p><p><em> Robin? </em> </p><p>She gave no indication she’d heard me, but I could at least feel her mind was active again. Near her, I finally noticed she wasn’t alone at her table anymore. </p><p>Voices reached her, asking her if she was okay, praising her for -- something? So she <em> had </em> done something, I concluded, though I couldn’t explain how or what. A phrase stuck out to me, though: </p><p><em> “You fell instantly into the crystal’s energy.” </em> </p><p>Ahlēvīsh? </p><p>Could she -- no, I denied before I let the words form. Even if the infernus and Ahlēvīsh were similar, they were not the same, and she was no demon. She couldn’t enter the infernus, especially not while <em> I </em> was occupying it. Ahlēvīsh didn’t work like that; the infernus wouldn’t, either. </p><p>But then, what had happened? How had she ventured this far? How had she managed to reach me here, on the inside of it? And why? </p><p><em> Why, payilas? </em> </p><p>Confusion, uncertainty, disbelief and dread clashed inside me. Then, stronger than the others, I felt <em> alarm. </em> This wasn’t right -- none of this was right! And the odd, conflicting part was that it <em> felt </em> like it was, like somehow we’d both done something correctly. </p><p>Rejection blazed in me. I didn’t want this, I reminded myself. </p><p>Yet, after that brief contact...I found myself yearning for it. </p><p><em> Kasht! </em> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Book 2, Chapter 4-5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The first scene is 100% invented. By no extent is it based on the information given in the books. I just love exploring Zylas's mind.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There were several rules and compromises in the apartment. One of them was that I would never look at Robin while she was changing, and in return she’d taught me how to work the shower -- though she’d limited me to one shower a day unless I needed its heat. Another was that I could leave at night to explore the city as long as I was back before dawn and no one saw me -- and, she’d demanded, as long as I didn’t kill anyone. </p><p>I liked exploring. The <em> hh’ainun </em> city was as large as any demon House’s claimed territory, from what I could tell. The buildings never seemed to end, no matter which direction I went. Humans occupied nearly every single one of them, as well, despite the fact that many of them were empty in the coldest hours of the night. It both rained and snowed frequently during the night as well, everything frosted over by morning. </p><p>So many new and unique scents permeated the air. It was bizarre, like the wind was both clearer and more cluttered at the same time. Humans had more diverse and -- sometimes -- offensive scents than most demons. Some of them would walk by where I was hiding and it would take everything in me not to gag and sneeze at the sharp scent they left behind, yet others just smelled...nice. </p><p>Robin had a nice scent. Amalia’s changed from time to time, sometimes offensive, sometimes not. She seemed to change hers using bottles of liquid, from what I understood; a lot of females seemed to do this, but males were no exception. </p><p>Not a lot of the humans hunted in the night. From what Robin had told me, it was more frequent here than in other places. This area was more dangerous than others. It was why, her first night here, she and Amalia had been cornered by those males. They’d intended to hurt the females, and if not for me, they would have succeeded. </p><p>Over the last weeks, I’d found all four of them. Robin’s rule of no killing stayed my claws, but I hadn’t let them go unharmed, either. One by one, I’d reduced all four of them to bloody, broken -- but still breathing -- piles in the dirt. </p><p>The hardest part had been keeping out of sight while I hunted and visited retribution on them, but luckily I could see in the dark. My darkness <em> vīsh </em> had made very convenient shields from prying eyes -- and it’d had the delightful effect of terrifying the <em> hh’ainun </em> males worse. In the dark, it seemed, they were much more easily frightened. </p><p>Once that was over, however, I had no more goals, no more hunts. I prowled and learned, listening to the humans, trying to understand their lives. It was a moment of epiphany when I realized that, as a whole, humans worked <em> together </em> in large communities. As a whole, they built these massive cities because they stood together in a way even the demon Houses of Ahlēavah did not. No -- even the <em> pashir </em> wasn’t like this, I amended. </p><p><em> Payashē </em> lounged, never doing more than they had to, standing together more out of disdain for males than any desire to support one another. They were apathetic in all things. Mothers cared for their daughters and daughters revered their mothers, and all obeyed the will of the <em> payapis, </em> but that was where their devotions ended. </p><p>Males were no better. All deferred to the ruling <em> Dīnen, </em> yes -- provided they even knew who it was -- but while they obeyed commands, that was it. They did nothing more. My own House was even more useless than the others; every Vh’alyir I’d met had run like the <em> nailēris </em>they were, refusing to do anything but hide unless I’d ordered otherwise. </p><p>I wondered which of them had received the <em> Dīnen vīsh </em> after me. </p><p>But this <em> hh’ainun </em> world...it was like a complete opposite. More and more I was seeing cooperation and selflessness among them, even in this place, where hunters existed. More surprisingly, I saw many mothers, and they cared for both their daughters <em> and </em> their sons in equal measure. The sight was disturbing to me, making my chest compress with yearning. </p><p>To have received actual care from my mother, to have been carried and held and cradled the way these human mothers did… </p><p>I shook myself. That wasn’t the demon way, and I needed to keep that in mind. I was going home -- eventually, yes, but I <em> was </em> going home. Robin had promised. After all, I thought, she didn’t want me here any more than I wanted to be here. We were bound, but neither of us had wanted it, and my existence was a threat to her besides. </p><p><em> She doesn’t want you here. </em> </p><p>I spent the night reminding myself of this. Whatever had happened while she was at the guild, whatever she had displayed when I’d rescued her from Red Rum, she didn’t want me here. We were partners in this -- until I went home. That was all. </p><p>I couldn’t allow her to mean anything else to me but that. </p><p> </p><p>-- </p><p> </p><p><em> Zylas? </em> </p><p>Robin’s voice, thinking my name, was punctuated with a tap that ricocheted through my mind like a wave. Was it finally time to act? I sensed no danger from her, just a quiet request. </p><p>Good enough. I stepped from the infernus into -- <em> hnn. </em> I wasn’t sure where we were. It smelled foul, like numerous different kinds of burnt remnants. Robin had explained she was returning to the house she and Amalia had lived in before, but I didn’t recognize this room, even taking the collapsed walls and ceiling into consideration. Had I not checked this one before? I could see the outside from here, well into the street, but the females didn’t seem concerned. No one was around, then? </p><p>Distaste roiled in me, the foul scent overpowering nearly everything else. “It stinks,” I complained aloud. </p><p>“No shit, Sherlock,” Amalia retorted, even as she shuffled away from me. I watched her, wondering why she was so stupid all the time. </p><p>Evidently my more subtle means of getting her to stay silent and show me respect weren’t working. She was lucky Robin still claimed to need her. I might’ve thrown her from the apartment building by now otherwise. </p><p>She irritated me. </p><p>“Zylas,” Robin prompted, pulling me from my assessment of how much damage Amalia could take before she stopped moving, “we need to search under there.” She pointed to a collapsed wall, blackened with soot. “Can you move that wall?” </p><p>“It is heavy?” I checked, gripping the edge and tugging. It lifted without difficulty, barely even notable. I frowned, confused. “This is not heavy,” I told her. </p><p>She was staring. “It is for us,” she murmured. Then, shaking herself, she asked, “Can you drag it over there, please?” </p><p>I glanced at her, then to her marked location. The females, even together, could not manage this much? <em> Hh’ainun </em> were even weaker than I’d thought. I was tempted to have them do it themselves, if only to analyze just how weak they were for myself, but -- I reminded myself -- they were here for a reason. Robin had told me as much. It was a “long shot”, she’d said, but her mother’s grimoire might be here. </p><p>I hefted the debris up and over my head, careful not to bash the females with it -- they could very well die from it, I thought, annoyed -- and dropped it on my other side, flipping it over with a shove to get it further away. </p><p>Underneath, a little metal box sat, the females’ target. More debris had it partly hidden, but this the females cleared on their own. I examined the box as they worked, noting the odd, circular piece jutting from its door. A lock, I thought, but I’d never seen one like it before. </p><p>Amalia crouched down and I watched as she twisted it back and forth, the door swinging open on its own after a few cycles. <em> Hnn. </em> That form of lock seemed extra <em> zh'ūltis. </em> I’d expected more. </p><p>The females exchanged a sharp look, and then they pulled it open all the way. It was empty within, but I caught the scent of <em> vīsh </em>from within. </p><p>Amalia radiated disappointment and irritation. “No way. Dad must’ve come back to get everything,” she whined. </p><p>Robin settled down on her toes. “Or MagiPol opened it when they searched the house last month,” she offered. </p><p>I leaned closer, reaching past Robin to feel the inside of the box. Swiping the inner wall, I brought my fingers to my nose for a better sniff. “Smells like <em> vīsh,” </em> I confirmed. Demon <em> vīsh, </em> specifically. A demon had gotten into the box. </p><p>Robin glanced at me, then looked closer at the innards. “Amalia,” she prompted, “do these look severed?” </p><p>Amalia leaned in, too, looking at the series of small metal pins that I assumed had been keeping it locked. “You’re right,” she agreed. </p><p>What I was curious about, now, was how the demon had managed to do this. The metal was severed -- using a <em> vīsh </em>I did not know. Odd; that didn’t happen often. Shouldering through the females, I tried to get a better sniff, all but sticking my head in the box, but the scent was no clearer even this close. Or, rather, there were far too many other smells also in the box and the room, and saturated under a heavy musk of rot and soot. </p><p>“I can’t scent the demon,” I told them, “only his <em> vīsh. </em>Too many other smells.” </p><p>Leaning pointedly away from me, Amalia muttered, “Of course on top of everything else, he’s a freaking bloodhound.” </p><p>I glanced at her, unsure what a <em> bloodhound </em> was, and as such, unsure what level of retaliation would be appropriate for that comment. </p><p>Robin’s scent flooded with exhaustion. I decided not to add to it; the females were trying, at least. Then, examining the box again, I frowned at it. It wasn’t balanced, I thought. </p><p>“Someone broke into the safe using <em> demon magic?” </em> Robin was saying. “That rules out your dad and the MPD, then.” </p><p><em> Safe, </em> I thought. This was called a <em> safe? </em> What made it “safe”? Humans didn’t make sense. </p><p>I needed a better look at it. With a hop, I went right over their heads, twisting to land on it facing the humans. Then, leaning down, I looked closer at the walls. One at a time, I knocked at the inner walls, confirming what I’d thought: they weren’t equal. The sound echoed from one side but not the other. </p><p>I said, “This. It is thicker?” That was the word, <em> na? </em> </p><p>“It is?” Robin checked, surprised. “How can  you tell?” </p><p>“It looks different,” I informed her. Could she not see this? <em> Hh’ainun </em> eyes were as weak as the rest of them. </p><p>My <em> payilas </em> was quiet for a moment, thoughtful, though I didn’t hear a word of it. Then, to Amalia, she asked, “Is that normal for safes?” </p><p>“How would I know?” the blonde retorted, feeling the inside of the wall I’d identified. “Can you shine a light in here?” </p><p>Robin took out her phone, and in a moment a bright light shone from it. <em> Hnn. </em> I hadn’t known it could do that, I thought, sitting up. </p><p>Amalia stuck her head in the box as she examined it from the inside. Then, after a moment, a metal <em> clang </em> sounded and she recoiled with a cry of pain. </p><p><em> Hah. </em> That would do for retaliation, I thought, amused. And now that I’d done all the work -- again -- I hopped off the safe, deciding to check the rest of the house. There was a chance that, if I looked, I might find a better scent of the demon that had been present in here, but more than this I just wanted to see how wrecked the house had become. </p><p>Vindictive pleasure filled me as I went from room to room, silently stepping over, around and under the remnants of walls and ceilings. Seeing the house in shambles felt good, given it’d been my prison for so long. It was daylight, so I was cautious, but it looked like this area was deserted, now. Even the other homes nearby were silent. Had everyone left after Tahēsh’s rampage -- or had he killed them all? I sniffed the air, curious if he actually had. </p><p>No faint, old wisps of blood were nearby, but...I thought I was smelling a <em> fresh </em> one. <em> Na, </em> something to hunt, then? </p><p>I itched to check it out, but before that I had to ensure my foolish <em> payilas </em> hadn’t gotten herself into trouble. I didn’t see how she could, given there were no <em> hh’ainun </em> nearby, but by now I was fully aware that she could always find <em> some </em> way to get herself in a difficult situation. </p><p>Thinking of her was all it took to become aware of her mind, and it was startling to recognize that her thoughts were completely closed off. That was unusual; at the barest, I could usually at least tell that she <em> was </em> thinking, even if I couldn’t hear the words. She was blocking me? </p><p>I looked for her. She was outside of the room where she’d been when I found her, and I caught the scent of her pain before I reached her, then the smell of tears. She was crying? <em> Na, </em> she <em> had </em> managed to hurt herself, even in this place with no other <em> hh’ainun </em> nearby to threaten her. She must be a practitioner of self-harming miracles, I thought, irritated. </p><p><em> “Payilas?” </em> </p><p>She jolted, a sharp squeak escaping her. When she saw me, she wiped her face, demanding, “What?” </p><p>I eyed her. A paper was clutched in her hand, but I could neither see nor smell any blood on her. “Are you wounded?” I checked. </p><p>“No,” she denied immediately. </p><p>My eyes narrowed on her. Her words weren’t a lie, but her scent disagreed. The way she gazed at me, too, was disconcerting -- like she pitied my lack of understanding. Irritated, my tail lashed, offense rising. I could understand <em> anything. </em> </p><p>“I smell pain,” I accused her. Explain <em> that. </em> </p><p>She recoiled, surprised. “You can <em> smell </em> that? How?” she demanded. </p><p>I gave her another sniff, partly just for show but mostly to confirm that I wasn’t smelling <em> her </em> blood. “I do not smell your blood,” I informed her. “Where are you hurt?” </p><p>“I’m not injured,” she retorted with a sigh. Lifting the paper in her hand as if it explained anything at all, she explained, “My mother wrote this. She died seven months ago. It hurts to be reminded that she’s gone.” </p><p>My head tilted, her words conjuring memories I would prefer never to recall. “That is what hurts you?” I checked, doubtful. </p><p>“Yes.” </p><p>I stared at her. Being reminded of her mother was painful, because her mother was gone? This was not a wound by any definition. It made no sense. </p><p><em> “Zh'ūltis,” </em> I concluded. </p><p>My <em> payilas </em> showed not an ounce of surprise at my declaration. If anything, she accepted it without complaint. “It’s a human thing. You wouldn’t understand,” was her only reply. </p><p><em> “Hnn,” </em> I grunted, agreeing with her on this much, at least. “If you were strong, it would not hurt,” I informed her, and this I meant both towards her, the individual, and humans as a whole. Hurting from separation of specific individuals...it was stupid. They depended on one another too much, and it weakened them all. </p><p>She rolled her eyes, completely dismissing my freely-given advice. It irked me. But as she turned her back on me, brushing away another tear, my mind involuntarily cast back to my own childhood. I knew what it was like to be suddenly left alone. </p><p>Quietly, I murmured, “You were not ready to lose the one who protected you.” </p><p>She straightened, then pivoted back around, catching the words I hadn’t thought her weak human ears would’ve been able to hear. <em> Kasht. </em> </p><p>“What did you say?” she demanded. </p><p><em> Relief. </em> She <em> hadn’t </em> heard. Quickly swapping to information that would undoubtedly distract her, I replied, “I found the scent of fresh blood in the house.” </p><p><em> “What?” </em> she snapped, blinking her wide eyes. </p><p><em> “Ch,” </em> I scoffed. “Are you deaf <em> and </em> stupid, <em> payilas?” </em> I shot back. </p><p>She ignored that. “How fresh is the scent?” </p><p>I gave her a shrug, glad that my diversion had worked. “I don’t know. It is faint. The trail leads that way,” I directed, pointing towards the rear of the demolished house. </p><p>She looked that way, then declared, “Then let’s check it out.” As I stared, disbelieving, she headed that way, taking a few steps before she noticed I was pointedly <em> not </em> following her. </p><p>Just what did she think she would do when she found the source of the scent? Scream at it to death? </p><p>“Are you coming?” she asked, confused. </p><p>I scowled. “I am <em> going. You </em> stay here,” I told her. </p><p>“What?” she returned, somehow surprised by this. “But...didn’t you come get me so we could go together?” </p><p>“No,” I shot back, wondering why she’d thought that. “I came to tell you first so you do not make noise.” </p><p>She blinked. “Make noise?” she echoed. </p><p>Mimicking her tone in the most unflattering way I could, I mocked, <em> “Zylas, Zylas, where are you? Come back!” </em> It was irritating, but I even mispronounced my own name -- the way she did. “I cannot hunt if you are making noise,” I informed her brutally. </p><p>Her hands lifted to her head, her fingertips circling her temples, stress flowing both through her scent and our bond. Voice hard, she bit out, “I’m coming with you.” </p><p>“You cannot hunt,” I reminded her. </p><p>“I’ll be quiet and follow you.” </p><p>“No,” I repeated, trying not to laugh at the absurdity of her claim that she would <em> be quiet. </em> She couldn’t <em> not </em> make noise, all the time. It was her chief trait. </p><p>She glared at me. “What will you do?” she challenged. “Tie me up so I can’t follow?” </p><p>I narrowed my gaze on her, thinking back. Had I seen any rope in the house? Nothing that I could trust would hold even such a weak being as her, I thought, and some were likely dangerous anyway. Besides, if I tied her up, I’d have to tie Amalia too, and I couldn’t trust that <em> both </em> of them, together, wouldn’t be able to get free. </p><p>Aggravated, I set my jaw and stalked away, chuffing in frustration. I couldn’t watch her <em> and </em> hunt at the same time, but now I had little choice. I hoped she would at least manage to settle her breathing. </p><p>It would be <em> something. </em> </p><p> </p><p>--</p><p> </p><p>I led the way around the house, my <em> payilas </em> at least <em> attempting </em> to walk gingerly behind me. In the rear of the property, where the trees grew tall and wide, I located the scent and prowled towards it. My steps were silent, the hard-earned grace of a skilled hunter. </p><p>Robin’s every step <em> squished. </em> </p><p><em> “Payilas,” </em> I hissed, irritated, “you are too loud.” </p><p>“I’m not saying anything,” she shot back under her breath. </p><p>“You walk with too much noise,” I informed her. </p><p>Her steps hesitated. As I followed the scent, weaving amongst the trees, her steps managed to soften -- but I could still hear her. <em>Dilēran.</em> She was going to get us caught by the prey. I had to find a way to get rid of her--</p><p>A fence rose before us, far taller than she would ever be able to climb. Perfect. </p><p>I hauled myself up enough to see over its edge, scanning the grassland beyond for anything that stood out. Seeing nothing threatening, I dropped down and leapt, perching on top of the fence, my tail swinging to keep me balanced. Here, I sniffed the air, confirming that whatever had wandered through the house had come this way. </p><p>Keeping my voice low, I informed her, “The scent is stronger.” I stepped off, hoping she would take my words for the warning they were and let me--</p><p>“Zylas!” </p><p>I cringed, a flash of burning anger filling me. </p><p>“Zylas, get back here!” </p><p>Twisting, I leapt, getting an arm around the top of the fence. “Be <em> quiet, payilas,” </em> I hissed. It was one thing if she couldn’t hunt, but now she was thwarting <em> my </em> hunt, too. </p><p><em> Have </em> some <em> consideration! </em> </p><p>“Help me over,” she ordered. </p><p>“No. Stay there,” I ordered back. </p><p>Her expression pinched with anger. “If you don’t help me over the fence,” she warned, “I’ll start yelling.” </p><p>I scowled at her, debating. Would she? Would she ruin my hunt for refusing to take her along? </p><p>Her steady gaze said she would. </p><p><em> “Mailēshta,” </em> I spat. She didn’t flinch, waiting expectantly. </p><p>Kicking off the wooden barricade, I launched myself over it. Making no effort whatsoever to hide how frustrating this creature made me, I hauled her up over my shoulder -- the armored one, because it was more uncomfortable -- and hopped back over. Her breath whooshed from her lungs as we landed, and I promptly dropped her on the ground, making a point by doing it without a sound. </p><p>If I could <em> drop </em> her on the ground without making noise, then she could at least learn how to <em> walk </em> without disturbing every last blade of grass! </p><p>Then she twisted and shoved to her feet with so much noise my tail snapped. It took a second to refocus on my hunt, blocking her out of my awareness with difficulty. </p><p>If I went insane by the time I made it back to Ahlēavah, it will be because of <em> her. </em> </p><p>She wheezed and gasped behind me, making it impossible to ignore her, but I managed to catch the scent again. It wove through the thicker expanse of trees here, leading through several-- </p><p>Footsteps. Not hers. Ahead. Wrong direction -- the scent goes one way, the movement from another. <span>I halted, freezing in place. </span></p><p>“I’m <em> trying </em> to--” she hissed. </p><p>I snatched her around the waist, pivoting into her space and clamping a hand over her mouth. She went rigid, my alarm succeeding where my words had not. </p><p>“I hear movement,” I breathed, wishing vainly that she could hear <em> my </em> thoughts so I would not have to speak in these situations. “I smell blood, but not from this direction.” </p><p>She went very, very still. Good enough. </p><p>Tightening my hold, I lifted her stupid, noisy feet off the ground and moved silently into the nearest cover: brush with no leaves. Settling her on the ground halfway under me, I gave her yammering mouth a squeeze, impressing the need for silence, then slipped my arms off her. A shadow morphed through the trees ahead of us, each step it took as loud as hers had been. </p><p>Then -- a whistle of air, metal cutting close, a new scent--</p><p><em> Kasht! </em> </p><p>I spun and shot to my feet, recognizing the enemy <em> behind </em> us too late, its movements so much more quiet, the figure ahead a clever distraction, <em> this </em> one the true threat -- my claws unfurled, preparing, as the opponent revealed herself, a blonde female with a sword--</p><p>“Stop!” Robin commanded. </p><p>The female halted her swing, so I did, too, waiting. Recognition burned in Robin’s mind. She knew this female? </p><p>After a moment of staring, the female relaxed, also recognizing Robin. She stood upright, resting the tip of her sword on the ground in a non-threatening pose. </p><p>“Zora?” Robin checked, hesitant. Her mind skittered and jumbled with questions and memories, but it was enough to answer the question I couldn’t ask: this was one of the guild’s members. </p><p>“Robin,” the other female greeted, confirming her name. Then, smiling, she said, “Not what I was expecting out here! So this is your demon?” </p><p><em> Kasht. </em> Frustrated at having my hunt interrupted now by someone else, I relaxed, too, pretending Robin had ordered me so. Zora looked me over, curious -- but not judging, at least. Her gaze displayed no recognition, which meant she hadn’t been there when the others had seen me. </p><p>Interesting, given I could scent Darren on her. They must be part of a team. And, I added with some grudging respect, <em> she </em> was a hunter. I hadn’t heard her approach at all. Robin could learn a few things from the other female. </p><p><em> Snap. </em> Zora’s eyes shifted somewhere behind me, but the lack of surprise and alarm on her part kept me from reacting. Robin, on the other hand, jolted so hard I could feel the wind disturbed by the motion. </p><p>She had <em> no idea </em> how to hunt -- and less so of how to be hunted. </p><p>“What’s this?” a male’s voice asked. “A demon?” </p><p>I fought an urge to grumble. </p><p>“Remember Robin, our new contractor?” Zora answered him, hefting her sword over her shoulder. “Robin, this is Drew, my partner today.” </p><p>I gave a subtle sniff, pairing the name, voice and scent of the male together. I wished I could look, but that would break the act. </p><p>“Hi,” Robin offered meekly. “What are you doing out here?” she asked them. </p><p>“Hunting,” Zora answered with a grin. “Though we probably spooked it with all that noise,” she added. </p><p>“Spooked...what?” Robin checked. </p><p>“The vampire.” </p><p>I didn’t know what a vampire was, but Robin’s silent stun suggested it was one of the more dangerous creatures in this world. And her mind helpfully provided a limited amount of context: <em> vampires </em> and <em> blood </em> were connected. And it scared her. </p><p>I wasn’t surprised. Nearly everything scared her. </p><p>Zora continued, “So, I’m guessing you aren’t hunting the vamp. What brings you all the way out here, then?” she prompted. </p><p>“Uhh…” Robin hedged, her mind stuttering. “I’m investigating a...rumor about Demonica. Illegal Demonica,” she lied. </p><p>At that, Zora’s interest spiked visibly. “Ooh, exciting,” she said, ignoring me completely to focus on Robin’s lie. “Our guild usually skips the Demonica postings, since we don’t -- or didn’t -- have any contractors. What are the details of the--” </p><p>Tension subtly raced through me with each word. Robin was a terrible liar; why had she said anything at all? Zora was going to figure it out! I swore at her in my mind--</p><p>“Zora,” Drew called, “we should deal with the vamp first. It’s close,” he reminded her. </p><p>“Right,” she allowed, refocusing, “back to the hunt. Wanna come along, Robin?” </p><p>Robin’s mind stuttered all over again. “Huh? Me?” </p><p>“Sure,” Zora shrugged. “I’ve never seen a demon take on a vamp before. It’ll be interesting.” </p><p>It was hard to withhold a growl. <em> Refuse, </em> I told Robin fiercely. As much as I wanted to hunt, I disdained this act, too. </p><p>“I don’t know anything about vampires,” my <em> payilas </em> hedged. </p><p>Zora took that as an agreement, directing, “Crash course, then! Walk and talk, my girl.” </p><p>And, of course, as she strode past me, Robin folded. She had <em> no </em> spine. She kept up with Zora, and I had no choice but to follow behind her, each step ridiculously precise. I glowered at the back of her head when no one else was looking. </p><p>Frustration welled. Oh, <em> now </em> I could hunt, now that I had to pretend to be enslaved? <em> Now </em> it was okay? Now she would be silent and listen? </p><p>Drew branched off from the others, and Zora peeked back after a moment. </p><p>“Gotta say,” she said to Robin, “that’s kind of creepy. I figured you’d put the demon in front so you could see what you’re doing with it.” </p><p>Alarm flashed through me. Should I have? But if I did, I could not see Robin -- it was harder to protect her when I could not see her. </p><p>But her reply was quick, saying, “Direct line of sight is helpful but not necessary for a contractor.” </p><p>Relief eased some of the tension in me. Her words were not a lie, and she had clearly been studying this subject to more easily fake our contract. Good. </p><p>Then she prompted, “So, um, vampires?” </p><p>Zora pulled an object from her waist, a stick of some form with a glowing ball at the end. “Most important tool for vampire hunting: a blood tracker,” she explained proudly. “This baby is spelled to react to nearby vampires. If it’s glowing, we’re going the right way. The brighter it glows, the closer the vamp.” </p><p>My cheek twitched. Evidently I was also a blood tracker, because I could smell the creature, now. Blood and <em> hh’ainun </em> mixed with something unknown, something like rot. When Zora waved her stick left and right in example, the end glowing brighter and dimmer as she moved it, I noted its increase when she aimed it the correct way. </p><p>Robin watched for a moment, then looked up at the sky. Her thoughts managed to flicker open enough to explain why: vampires were weaker in the daylight. In the day<em> light, </em> I thought? Not in the day <em> time? </em> </p><p>She failed to hear me -- again. This was getting irritating. </p><p>“Vamps are, generally speaking, a bit faster than a human,” Zora’s lesson continued. “At night, or right after feeding, they’re quite a bit faster. They aren’t particularly strong, though.” </p><p>I absorbed that information, constructing how to fight these creatures, but her last comment had me struggling not to scoff. Strong -- compared to what? A human? Recalling that Robin and Amalia, together, could not even lift something I’d had no trouble hauling over my head, I concluded that a <em> vampire’s </em> strength was nothing. </p><p>“Okay,” Robin mumbled, subdued. </p><p>“The most important thing is don’t let it bite you,” Zora added, her voice quieting as the glow of the stick brightened. “Their saliva will--” </p><p>A screech echoed around us, cutting off her words. My pulse leapt, excited; would I finally get my claws in this creature? </p><p>Zora switched from teacher to hunter in a snap, shoving her blood tracker back into place and darting forward as she readied her sword. Robin sent a quick glance back at me; I gave her the slightest nod I could, telling her to go. </p><p>She broke into a run and I kept up a step behind her, keeping her in my sight. It was ridiculously slow, having to match <em> her </em> pace, but I dealt with it. My curiosity and the thirst for a hunt was placation enough -- for now. </p><p>Zora led us around more brush, more screams echoing as we neared the target. The scent of blood washed over me -- nonhuman, foul, thick. Old and fresh. It was packing thicker the closer we came, swiftly becoming overpowering. </p><p>A structure appeared before us as we twisted around some foliage, columns holding up a roof with no walls. There, in front of it, was...a <em> hh’ainun? </em> The figure looked like one, but the scent was undeniable: this was no human. </p><p>Zora charged ahead, <em> nearly </em> soundless, her steps controlled and gentle as a hunter’s should be. But the creature heard her coming anyway, and it spun up to its feet, facing her. In that moment, I assessed what I was seeing. </p><p>Male human in appearance. Tattered clothing. Gaunt body, starved. Nonhuman eyes -- black where they should be white, white where they should be black, a red ring in between. Blood staining his mouth and chin, his teeth sharpened even more so than a demon’s. A tiny, black creature in one hand. Blood scented from it, too; he had been...drinking it? </p><p>He flung the creature in his grasp aside and darted for Zora; she aimed her blade for his chest. He pivoted, avoiding the blade, swinging for her face; she ducked, spinning, her blade slicking through his leg. He stuttered in his step, then leapt for her. She jolted backward--</p><p>A whistle and rush of air shot from the trees, a large, metal ball launching straight for the vampire. It collided with his skull and he dropped, splaying sideways. Drew exited the foliage, hands up, and the ball lifted into the air as if held by strings, then slammed down. </p><p>The vampire managed to heft clear of the strike, even with the bloody dent in his head. Staggering, he forced himself up, gaunt limbs shaking, then turned, reorienting himself. His gaze snapped to Zora, then Drew -- then us. </p><p>His bizarre, unnatural eyes fell on Robin. </p><p>I readied myself. </p><p>Snarling and choking on blood, he surged for her, picking out the weakest target in sight. Gasping, she recoiled, and I slid in front of her. When the vampire lunged for her, I snatched him by his bloodstained face, then slammed him into the ground hard enough to demolish what was left of his fragile skull. </p><p>Already rushing our way, Zora shouted, “Perfect! Hold it there!” </p><p>The vampire was struggling still, somehow, but it was pathetic. Though his hands flailed, his weak nails couldn’t break my skin, and I had his mouth pinned shut. Whatever Zora’s warning about a vampire’s bite was, it was irrelevant now; I had the creature completely disabled with one hand. </p><p><em> Zh'ūltis. </em> I’d hoped for more. </p><p>Zora approached, not a single thread of fear in her scent, and promptly rammed her blade through the vampire’s chest. There was one final spasm in the creature, and then it stilled. All sound and strength halted from the creature, his foul, rotted blood wafting into the air. </p><p>It was disgusting. I got up and stepped back beside my <em> payilas </em> largely just to get away from the stink of it. </p><p>Zora was already wiping her sword clean with a cloth, explaining, “If you want to stop a vampire, take off the head. If you want to kill the vampiric spirit, stab it through the heart.” </p><p><em> Na, </em> this creature’s spirit was a threat, too? </p><p>“Oh,” Robin murmured. “That’s...I see.” </p><p>“I thought for a second there you’d frozen,” Zora noted, “but you got your demon moving in time. It’s a fast one, eh? Nicely done,” she approved. </p><p>It took effort not to grumble, annoyed. </p><p>Drew approached, nodding. “Yeah. Good job, Robin.” </p><p>I was starting to see a pattern with this <em> partnership, </em> and I didn’t like it. </p><p>Robin gazed at the male, then down to the corpse. “It...didn’t die from...from the, uh…” she stuttered. </p><p>Zora replied, “Guess where zombie stories really come from?” She put her sword into its sheath, saying, “The vampiric spirit will keep the body moving, even if it’s mortally wounded. You have to take off the head or damage the heart to kill it. Though,” she added more thoughtfully, “if you inflict lethal injuries, it’ll <em> eventually </em> stop moving -- after a few hours.” </p><p>I took in the information, learning, even as I chided Zora as <em> zh'ūltis </em>for sharing her hunting knowledge with someone she’d just met. This kind of thing...only sires should tell their young this. The more who knew, the more dangerous others became. She was not keeping herself safe. </p><p>Although, I allowed, she <em> was </em> helping to keep Robin safe. <em> Hnn. </em> Her stupidity was forgivable. </p><p>My <em> payilas </em> shuddered from the descriptions Zora had given, replying faintly, “By vampiric spirit, you mean fae possession, right?” </p><p>“Yep,” Zora agreed as I fought to understand this concept. I would have to ask Robin for clarification later. </p><p>Attention shifting to the corpse, Zora gave it a telling nudge, explaining, “This person was possessed and turned a long time ago. You can tell by how emaciated and sickly he looks, plus his behavior. The old vampires are the most bloodthirsty and wild. Once they can no longer impersonate a human, they deteriorate quickly. They’ll attack anything.” </p><p>Robin’s emotions conflicted in her mind as Zora spoke, and at the end, she perked up, her focus shifting. Her head snapped to the structure, and she hurried that way, seeking. I couldn’t follow and her thoughts were still vague at best, but I saw her crouching over the creature the vampire had been clutching before. </p><p>It made a weak sound, close to death. <em> End its suffering, if you must, </em> I urged her. I knew how much death could distress her, and I felt it as her emotions constricted. </p><p>Instead of killing it, however, she suddenly peeled her coat off and -- did something I couldn’t see clearly. In a moment, though, she was back on her feet, and when she turned to the rest of us, she was holding her jacket in her arms. </p><p>Disbelief filled me. Was she trying to <em> save </em> the creature? </p><p>“Cats can’t get turned into vampires, right?” she asked Zora. </p><p>“No,” Zora answered slowly, “but I’m not sure a cat can survive a--” </p><p>“I need to go,” Robin interrupted, hurrying back over. “Come on, Z--” she started, then bit her lip, stopping just before she slipped up. “I mean,” she corrected, “are you coming, Zora? Or staying here?” </p><p><em> Too close, payilas! </em> I yelled at her. </p><p>Zora didn’t seem to realize the mistake, answering, “We have to report the kill and wait for MPD cleanup. If you stay,” she offered, “you can have a cut of the bounty. You did--” </p><p>“That’s fine. It’s all yours,” Robin cut her off a second time. She passed by the others, her mind calling me to follow. “See you later!” she threw over her shoulder. </p><p>I kept up with her as we headed back, but I wasn’t <em> pleased </em> with this. She was treating the tiny creature in her arms as if it were her own daughter, in need of care. It was <em> zh'ūltis. </em> All of this was <em> zh'ūltis. </em> </p><p>It only got worse when I had to haul her back over the fence, her arms clutching the creature protectively to her chest, and then reunited with Amalia. The blonde had been wandering outside in front of the collapsed house, pacing, and the females rushed to each other when we made it back. </p><p>“Where were you?” Amalia demanded immediately. “What’s going on?” </p><p>I exhaled harshly, exhausted in a way that had nothing to do with the physical. </p><p>“There was a vampire,” Robin explained in a rush, “we met Zora, we killed it -- look,” she urged, gesturing her bundle. </p><p>Amalia peered into the jacket, then gave a soft whine. “Is that a <em> kitten?” </em> </p><p>“The vampire was feeding on it,” my <em> payilas </em> said, her voice tight with sorrow. “I want to take it to a vet.” </p><p>Amalia’s hand settled over her chest, nodding. “Okay, yeah -- sure. I’ll find something close. Let’s head back to the bus.” </p><p>Nodding, herself, Robin hurried away from the house -- completely forgetting about me still standing there. </p><p><em> Me! </em> The one who’d brought her along unwilling on a hunt, kept her safe, made up for her lack of strength <em> and </em> stealth, protected her--</p><p>I hissed at her back as she and Amalia headed away -- and then she looked over her shoulder at me. </p><p>“Thank you,” she murmured. </p><p>My irritation eased somewhat. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Book 2, Chapter 6-7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em> She kept it. </em> </p><p>In a way, I’d expected this; Robin tended to do the opposite of whatever would be most efficient and intelligent in every given opportunity. I could name <em> dozens </em> of instances of her doing just that, by this point. Yet deciding to <em> keep </em> the injured creature -- a cat, she’d said, though she’d also called it “kitten”; I thought maybe a kitten was a cat’s young -- was even more stupid than I’d expected of her. </p><p>Right now she was trying to feed it again, holding out a morsel of food between her fingers as the caged creature hissed and spat at her from within. Aggravated, I watched from her doorway, glowering at her in disapproval -- not that she bothered to notice. </p><p>She called <em> me </em> deliberately defiant? She was just as bad! Every time I tried to get her to act in her own best interest she simply refused, usually without even recognizing my efforts. It was <em> offensive. </em> </p><p>After a little while of attempting to verbally tempt the creature (an exercise in futility, itself; the cat was clearly not intelligent enough to understand), she gave up, sighing. She left the crumb of food in the cage and stood, turning -- and jolted when she noticed me. </p><p>I resisted the urge to sigh, myself; I hadn’t even been intentionally stealthy this time. She was just consistently unaware of her surroundings. </p><p>Annoyed, I bit out, “Why are you wasting time?” </p><p>Her expression blanked to something haughty as she pushed past me into the room beyond, not even answering my question. <em> That </em> didn’t irritate me; I hadn’t wanted her to answer it, anyway. I’d just wanted her to realize the stupidity of her efforts with the cat. Now whether or not she’d take my <em> gracious </em> advice and leave the creature with someone else remained to be seen. </p><p>I followed her as she took up a seat beside Amalia at the “kitchen bar”, she called it. They were still trying to find clues using the papers they’d recovered from their former home yesterday. I watched over her shoulder, the symbols on the papers still incomprehensible to me -- which I was more than happy to allow. I didn’t want <em> hh’ainun writing </em> in my head on top of their language and traditions. </p><p>“What did you find?” Robin asked Amalia. </p><p>“Nothing about safe houses or sanctuaries,” Amalia answered, slapping her own legs in aggravation. “The documents are all legal contracts and business agreements for everyone my dad deals with. Guilds, contractors, summoners, rogues, criminals, forgers...” she explained, my head spinning with the amount of foreign terms she was using. </p><p>Robin’s hand went to our infernus, and I watched her with a measure of quiet alarm, but she didn’t given any commands. She just tugged and toyed with it, as if trying to distract herself. “Unless this was all your dad kept in his safe,” she was saying, “whoever broke into it took everything else. What do you think they were looking for?” </p><p>“My dad’s location, just like us,” Amalia told her. “He--” </p><p>I hopped up onto the counter, spinning to face Robin. She was being suspicious, her thoughts muted, and I was bored; my gaze darted over her face as I reclined, looking for where her thoughts had hidden themselves. </p><p>She glanced at me in surprise, then looked away again, unperturbed. I narrowed my eyes, disliking her easy dismissal of my presence. </p><p>Amalia gave me a hard look -- disapproving -- as she continued, “My dad isn’t stupid -- usually -- but he has a weakness for money.”</p><p><em> Money, </em> I understood, was a key way of life for humans. They needed it to do almost everything, despite the fact that by now I knew they <em> could </em> live without it. They simply chose not to. </p><p>Amalia continued, “He never should’ve revealed to a rogue guild like Red Rum that he had a new demon name. I’m sure rumors have leaked out by now, especially since your bloodthirsty pal there killed so many Red Rum rogues.” </p><p>I smirked at the reminder, though I was starting to get irritated with Amalia’s habit of talking <em> about </em> me. It’d been amusing, once, but now I was getting increasingly pressing inclinations to remind her that I was listening -- that I heard <em> everything. </em> </p><p>I heard her hissing mutters to herself while she was in her room. I heard her less-muffled grumbles about me and my freedom. I heard the complaints she screamed into her pillow about how much she hated living like this. And I heard her quiet, strangled sobs she tried to hide while she showered. </p><p>She was weak, too, though for a different reason than Robin. They were both pitifully weak in their bodies, but while Robin’s key weakness was in her selfless nature, Amalia’s was in her inability to cope with change. Robin had taken to this new way of living with surprising ease, working out rules and compromises for all three of us. Amalia resisted. </p><p>She wanted to simply leave, but she knew I would hunt her down if she did. As long as Robin needed her, I would never allow her to leave. </p><p>Oblivious to my thoughts, Amalia continued the conversation without missing a beat, “I’d guess a lot of people are looking for Dad, hoping to get their hands on that demon name before he sells it too many times and the value drops.” </p><p>Robin’s thoughts were still muted, but I caught a vague impression from her: that my House name was more <em> valuable </em> than any other. </p><p>“It cannot be <em> sold,” </em> I growled to them -- a reminder and a warning. “No more <em> hh’ainun </em> can know it.” </p><p>“We’re trying,” Robin assured me, that genuine trait of hers I’d noticed before visible in her blue eyes as she gazed at me. “If we can find the grimoire in time, then no other summoners will get your House name.” </p><p>My tension eased somewhat. She meant what she said. If she failed to do this thing, it would not be because of betrayal nor a lack of effort. </p><p>Amalia interrupted my musing sharply, saying, “What do you care if other demons of your House are summoned? If you make it back to your world, you’ll never be summoned again.” </p><p>My gaze slid to her, a whole new wave of anger welling up inside me. Robin’s surprise bled through our connection; this information was new to her, which was an irritation in itself. The less she knew about summoning, the better, as far as I was concerned. But the thing that enraged me more was Amalia’s implication that I didn’t care about my House or which of my kin were summoned in the future. </p><p>We were already a dying House. Protecting our House name was just another way I protected us all. </p><p>Instead of replying to that, I let my anger be known in a different way. Leaning forward, I got my arms around Robin and lifted her up -- pleasure rose to battle the anger at the feel of her soft body -- and promptly kicked her stool over into Amalia’s. The force of it had her stool toppling over and she managed to heave herself off it before she went down with it. </p><p>Amused, I settled Robin against me, arms banding around her to keep her where I wanted her. </p><p>“Zylas!” my <em> payilas </em> snapped, wriggling to try and get free of me. Disapproval and discomfort slid through our connection, but that only amused me more. “Let me go,” she commanded. </p><p><em> Nul. </em> It’d been entirely too long since I’d had her in my grasp like this, and each time I was reminded why I liked it so much. She wasn’t very warm, but she was so small and soft, like a child. I wondered if she knew how nice her slight, smooth pressure felt against my skin. </p><p>I pressed my face into her hair, the silky strands almost feeling like a pet against me. I grinned, idly wondering if she’d been made specifically to tempt me. </p><p>“Zylas!” she chided again as she pivoted as far away as she could manage. “Quit that! Let me go!” </p><p>I chuckled, her reaction entirely too precious. With a puff, I blew into her hair, making the mass flutter around her face. This was fun; she was so angry but she could do nothing about it. Her skin burned hotter in response to her pique and her eyes flashed with warning, and it was adorable. She was like a newborn, trying so hard to prove her strength against an impossibly stronger being-- </p><p><em> Daimon, hesychaze, </em> her voice commanded in my mind. </p><p>My good humor vanished and my eyes widened in disbelief as I was forced into the infernus against my will. In the brief second it took to reform, I felt her physically fall onto the countertop, and then I was in front of her, a silent snarl curling my lips. </p><p>“Let me go when I tell you to!” she ordered immediately. </p><p>Cold rage burned in me, just under the surface, and I shot back with aggression, “You do not command me. You do not control me.” When I stepped closer, directly into her space, I felt and saw her own fear leap higher. </p><p>
  <em> Daimon-- </em>
</p><p>Her voice sent panic racing through me, a feeling which only increased my rage. Snagging her by the clothing on her chest, I pulled <em> her </em> closer to <em> me, </em> forcing her to stand on her toes. Though she was more afraid than ever, her scent soured with it, her glare was steady. Her back was straight with stubbornness, with <em> strength, </em> and I had to fight to not feel a sense of pride on her behalf. </p><p>She was finally learning to be strong -- but the fact that she was feeling it <em> now, </em> in <em> this </em> situation, aggravated me worse. I was no puppet, and if she ever tried to call me back into the infernus like that again--! </p><p>“Don’t make me use the command,” she murmured, her voice steady, “and I won’t use it.” </p><p>My grip on her clothing tightened as my fist clenched, my claws unfurling reflexively and tearing into the soft cloth. Though I didn’t call it, my <em>vīsh</em> coiled around my arms, heating the air around me in preparation to fight; I had to struggle to remember why I couldn’t <em> fight </em> my <em> payilas. </em> </p><p>Her thoughts were blinking in and out, words and sentences fragmented, but I heard one thing clearly: her concern that I was about to hurt her. </p><p><em> Protect, </em> I reminded myself fiercely. I’d promised. </p><p>With a snarl, I released her, but right now I couldn’t <em> look </em> at her. As the frigid burn of anger kept swirling in me, I stalked away from the females and back into Robin’s room. But once I was here, I didn’t know what to do. I just couldn’t be around that infuriating female anymore--</p><p><em> Hiiiisssss! </em> </p><p>My gaze snapped to the cage and the cat within it. The tiny creature -- also a female, I knew; just what I needed in this frustrating world and this tiny home: another female -- had noticed me and was backed into a corner. </p><p>Intrigue managed to slither through my awareness, dulling the anger just a little bit. It felt that I was a hunter, <em> na? </em> It knew, and it felt how close I was to slaughtering the humans in the next room? I wondered how strong its instincts were. It hadn’t escaped the vampire, after all, but maybe the vampire had been too quick for it. It was young, after all. </p><p>I crouched down to see it more clearly, then crept closer, eying it. As it hissed at me, baring its juvenile fangs, I had the most bizarre sense that its teeth resembled my own to a startling degree. Tilting my head, I examined it more closely. </p><p>Small. Tiny. Very weak, especially given the vampire had drained much of its blood. Covered in black fur with three small white paws. Green eyes, slitted pupils -- again, similar to my own. It hissed at me again; I hissed back. </p><p>Its fur stood on end, its back arching threateningly. Lips quirking, amusement managing to dull my former aggravation, I moved to crouch on top of the cage, wondering how the creature’s behavior would change when presented with this change. Normally Robin approached it from whichever side was nearest to the creature -- until it moved, and it always had. </p><p>It jammed into the furthest corner from me, its noises continuing in desperate fury. Concentrating, I focused on seeming calm -- not like a hunter. Would it calm, too? </p><p>This entire time I’d been hearing the females still talking. I only half-listened, but I still caught my own name, Jack’s, Claude’s, and finally heard Amalia leaving the apartment. As I continued staring at the cat, Robin’s footfalls brought her towards me -- then halted. </p><p>Her voice, shocked and angry, rang out, “Zylas!” Then she was there, pulling on me, snapping, “Get away from her!” </p><p>Irritation welled up again. What did she think I was going to do, kill the creature? It was <em> imadnul </em> -- not worth the effort. Unbidden, my tail swept in evidence of my pique, smacking into the cage and causing the cat to react even more violently. <em> Great. </em> It had only just begun to calm, and now my <em> payilas </em> had managed to make it worse. </p><p>Then her hands left my arm and I felt them seize my tail. Disbelief speared me -- no. <em> No. </em> There was no way. She wouldn’t -- this was-- </p><p>Stun held me prisoner just long enough for her to yank on me, and panic had me following the motion of my own volition. I shoved off the cage and was flung right back into her, and without the ability to control my tail, my balance vanished completely. I felt her soft body sandwiched between mine and the floor, felt a sharp impact of my skull against bone. </p><p>Snarling in renewed rage, I twisted to my feet just as I recognized the scent of blood in the air. Crouched over my exceedingly even-more-<em> zh'ūltis </em> -than-usual <em> payilas, </em> I noted the blood flowing from her nostrils as I swore at her. </p><p><em> “Payilas zh’ūltis!” </em> I snapped. <em> “Eshathē hh’ainun tādiyispela tūiredh’nā ūakan!” </em>The fact that she couldn’t understand me was only a secondary thought at the moment; I wanted to throw her clear out the window. </p><p>Stunned, she touched her face, discovering the blood for herself. Pain clouded the air around her. </p><p>Seeing as how her observational skills were clearly still being developed, I informed her brusquely, “You are bleeding.” </p><p>She pushed herself halfway up to a sit, checking her nose. </p><p>“What is wrong with you?” I demanded, shocked at her actions. Hadn’t I made this clear? Tails were <em> private! </em> “You pulled on <em> my tail,” </em> I growled at her, battling at urge to wrap my hands around her throat. </p><p>She had <em> no right </em> to touch my tail! </p><p>To make matters worse, she looked amused; her lips quirked. If she laughed I would -- promise or no promise, I would -- she -- I would--</p><p>Snarling under my breath, unable to complete the thought, I watched her shove the edge of her shirt under her nose to catch the dripping blood and push herself up. She caught my arm and pulled as she walked towards the bathroom, but she needn’t had bothered; I would’ve followed her anyway. I had a lot more to say. </p><p>She started cleaning her nose with tissues as I glared at her from the doorway, intentionally blocking it so she couldn’t leave. The tang of her blood was difficult on my sensitive nose, but I wasn’t leaving until I’d said everything I wanted to say -- and definitely not until her answers were satisfactory. </p><p>“What is wrong with you?” I repeated, both wanting to hear what kind of justification she might come up with and trying to puzzle it out for myself. “Why did you do that?” I demanded when she failed to answer. </p><p>She spun to face me, her own anger blazing in response. “You were tormenting the kitten!” she accused. “What’s wrong with <em> you?” </em> </p><p><em> Tormenting? </em> “I was looking at it,” I corrected, my fury steadily returning. </p><p>“And she was terrified,” my <em> payilas </em> pointed out, “which you knew perfectly well! You were frightening her on purpose!” </p><p>Only at first, I thought, but opted not to say <em> that. </em> She was already spending too much time lazing and fretting over <em>zh'ūltis</em> things. </p><p>“You are wasting time,” I shot back. “All you have done is waste time. You promised to send me home,” I reminded her. “You promised to find the grimoire and remove my House’s name. You have done none of that.” </p><p>“I warned you it would take a long time,” she shot back. </p><p>“I thought it would be slow because it is difficult, not because you are hardly trying,” I told her brutally. </p><p>“I <em> am </em> trying!” she defended sharply, her voice rising with her anger. Tossing the tissues away and starting to wash the blood off, she added more towards the sink, “You haven’t been helping! Bullying Amalia, interrupting me all the time, and now you’re torturing the kitten, too.” </p><p>“The <em> kitten </em> is worthless,” I hissed. “It’s a distraction.” </p><p>“Saving a life isn’t worthless!” she snapped. “Do you have no heart at all, Zylas? Are you that incapable of empathy?” </p><p><em> Empathy? </em> “I do not know that word,” I told her, even as offense rose. Did I not have a <em> heart? </em> What kind of <em> zh'ūltis </em> question was that? Of course I did -- but what did it have to do with the cat? </p><p>“Of course you don’t,” she huffed, unsurprised. She took a moment, controlling her breathing and finishing cleaning her face, then said, “Leave the kitten alone. I’ll take her away in the morning so she won’t be a ‘distraction’.” </p><p><em> Good. </em> Get rid of the thing so it didn’t take up so much of her time. That settled, my mind puzzled over that word from before; what did it mean, and what did it have to do with hearts? What kind of bizarre <em> hh’ainun </em> connection was there between these things? </p><p>“What is <em> empathy?” </em> I demanded, most of my anger sizzled out but enough of it remaining to keep my tone harsh. </p><p>“You wouldn’t understand,” she declared, dismissing my question entirely. </p><p>Offense rose. “I can understand anything you can,” I argued. </p><p>The look she tossed me, then, was deprecating. “You’re a demon, so no, you can’t,” she said coldly. </p><p>A growl rumbled as I demanded again, “Explain.” </p><p>“No.” </p><p>“Why not?” I bit out. </p><p>“Because when it doesn’t make any sense,” she retorted, “you’ll say <em> ‘zh'ūltis!’ </em> and decide <em> I’m </em> the dumb one, even though the problem is you.” With sharp motions, she rinsed and wrung out the cloth she’d used to wash her face, then turned to face me. “I’m leaving the bathroom now,” she hinted. </p><p><em> No, you are not, </em> I told her silently. Refusing to budge, I demanded for the <em> third </em> time, “Tell me what <em> empathy </em> is.” </p><p>She looked at me like she wanted to throw <em> me </em> out of the window. I’d love to see her try. </p><p>Folding her arms in mimicry of my own pose, she bit out, “Empathy is the ability to understand and share what others feel.” </p><p><em> Ih? </em> </p><p>“Share what others feel?” I echoed, baffled. Like with the infernus, how it linked us? I could feel her emotions from time to time. She had this connection with other things -- without an infernus to establish it? </p><p>“Yes,” she confirmed, pushing against my armor to make me move; I allowed it, following as she headed back to her room. </p><p>My mind continued to puzzle her words. Did all humans have this ability? Demons couldn’t do that. Sure, we could scent most emotions around one another and we could hear and taste lies, so we always <em> knew </em> what the others were feeling, but being able to feel it as clearly as our own? Robin could do this? </p><p>She sent a glance at the kitten as she strode to her closet, pulling it open. Tossing a hard look at me, she hinted, “I’m changing. Turn around.” </p><p>Reminded of our deal, I turned my back to her. I could hear her clearly, pulling off the old shirt and pulling on the new one, though this, too, confused me. Why bother hiding this? It wasn’t as if I cared what her skin looked like. </p><p>Then, finished with her task, she declared, “Okay.” </p><p>I spun to face her, saying, “Explain more.” I needed more information on this <em> empathy </em> thing. I’d told her I could understand anything she could, but for that I first needed her to explain it better. </p><p>She gave me a measuring look, debating. Her mind teetered wordlessly for a moment, and then she said, “When you scared the kitten, I could imagine how the kitten felt -- how terrifying it would be, being small and weak and trapped with a huge predator so close.” </p><p><em> Imagine? </em> my mind echoed, sending a quick look at the cage as my <em> payilas </em> sat down on her bed. Some of what she’d said made perfect sense; of course the kitten had been scared. It knew I was a hunter. But the way she phrased it had a memory resurfacing that I’d rather never recall. </p><p>“And,” she continued, “because I can <em> empathize </em> with the kitten, her fear was almost as upsetting to me as if you’d been scaring me instead.” </p><p>...Because she was <em> imagining </em> it? Baffled, I looked between the small, helpless human female and the small, helpless cat female, disbelief filling me. It had nothing to do with some supernatural ability humans had, then; it was just something Robin did of her own volition. </p><p>“That’s <em> zh'ūl--” </em>I started. </p><p>“I knew it!” she blurted, interrupting. “I knew you’d call <em> me </em> stupid because <em> you </em> don’t understand!” </p><p>I <em> did </em> understand -- but that didn’t change how ridiculous it was! “It is stupid!” I shot back, growing angry now because of just how infuriating her habits were. “It’s <em> dilēran,” </em> I informed her. </p><p>For a moment she was quiet, gazing at me as if I wasn’t worth her time anymore. And, somehow, that upset me worse. A twisting pressure asserted itself right in the center of my chest. </p><p>“It’s ‘stupid’ that I care about another living thing besides myself?” she challenged, her voice growing louder and sharper. “If I was as selfish and heartless as you, you would’ve died in that summoning circle, because I would never have bothered to help you.” </p><p>A wave of cold fear for what might have been managed to snake along my spine -- and there was that word again! <em> Heartless, </em> she’d said, when my heart was plenty strong and very much present. By now I understood that she meant it to mean something else, but I didn’t know <em> what. </em> What else could “heart” mean? </p><p>“You had reasons,” I shot back, realizing that I was starting to feel desperate and didn’t know why. </p><p>“What reasons?” she demanded, shaking her head ‘no’. “Helping you has only ever caused me trouble, and it almost got me killed.” Twice, in fact, my mind supplied me against my will. “Now we’re stuck together until I can send you home.” </p><p>She sounded so despairing about that, and it had that desperation from before flaring brighter. A new fear was coming to me, just a glimmer of a thought yet so powerful at the same time… </p><p>She was turning on me, I recognized, pain spearing me. </p><p>“I protect you,” I hissed. Maybe recalling our promises would remind her of her former -- maybe gone, now -- devotion to me. But that day at the dock, that day I’d saved her from dozens of men who’d sought her death and my enslavement, felt so distant, now. Had she forgotten? </p><p>Or had she decided I wasn’t worth her efforts anymore? </p><p>“Yeah, but if it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t need protection,” she informed me icily. “No one would be trying to hurt me.” Blindly, she retrieved one of her books, saying, “Along with your protection, I get your bad temper, your constant insults, and your disrespect. Not a great deal.” </p><p>The pain worsened. She <em> was </em> turning on me, I confirmed. She’d as good as said the words aloud. </p><p>I wondered why I felt surprised by that. Everyone turned on me eventually, after all. Robin was no different from all of the others. It’d just taken me a while to see that. </p><p>“Just forget about the empathy thing. You’ll never understand,” she said, as if confirming it for herself. “Why would you want to, anyway? Caring about others is a <em> waste of time, </em> right?” she challenged. </p><p><em> Betrayal. </em> That’s what I was feeling, I realized. She was going to betray me -- if she hadn’t already -- and all of this over a <em> cat. </em> As she gazed down at her book, her thoughts closed off completely, blocking me out of her mind. </p><p><em> Hiding her thoughts? </em> Why? What was she afraid I would see in her mind? </p><p>I didn’t bother asking. I knew the answer, and it felt like a blast of pure ice settling in my core. </p><p>I backed away from her, then prowled out of the room, an angry, cruel plan forming in my mind. She would betray me? She thought I couldn’t understand empathy? She thought I didn’t care about others -- not at all, not even in passing? </p><p>Then I would show her that I understood -- by betraying <em> her. </em> </p><p> </p><p>-- </p><p> </p><p>The females were out again. Robin had been avoiding me since that fight -- as had I -- but they’d found a location they needed to investigate, and so I’d gone into the infernus to come along with them. </p><p>I was still beyond angry with my stupid little human, but I’d managed to calm down about it. This was largely due to the fact that I’d overheard the females discussing how to tackle their investigation, and it included trying to see if Claude’s home had any information on Jack’s whereabouts. </p><p>If Claude had found Jack, then <em> they </em> could find Jack. If they found Jack, they’d find Robin’s grimoire. If Robin had that, then she could begin making progress in earnest, and it’d be a solid step in the direction of me going home. That meant she was keeping her promise. </p><p>The plan was intact, and <em> that </em> meant I’d been wrong: Robin <em> wasn’t </em> going to betray me. Therefore, I didn’t need to betray <em> her </em> to prove I understood “the empathy thing”. </p><p>But she was still angry with me, and after her losing her temper <em> again </em> just before we left, I was in no mood to be the least bit accommodating. All I’d done was <em> look </em> at the <em> ka’an </em> cat and she’d completely lost her mind! <em> Payilas zh'ūltis! </em></p><p>The females were discussing when to summon me. As much as I longed to be anywhere but inside the infernus, however, unless there was actual danger, I wasn’t going to lift a finger to help them. They could search by themselves. Granted, what snippets I was hearing from them wasn’t comforting -- something about damaged windows and walls, the place already having been torn apart -- but that wasn’t pressing enough for me to want to come out. Not yet, anyway. </p><p>A feeling washed over me, then, like the sound of a ringing bell, but as a sensation. It thundered through me in short, sharp pulses -- just two of them. </p><p><em> Daimon, anastethi, </em> Robin’s voice called. </p><p>The command had me growling as I was forced out of the infernus. <em> Don’t force me to use the commands, and I won’t, </em>she’d said. </p><p>This time she hadn’t even <em> asked. </em> She’d simply ordered. Something had clearly changed; she used to call my name, ask for my attention, even use the word ‘please’ from time to time. Now I glared down at her in warning, quiet fury burning through me. </p><p>Ignoring my ire, she said sharply, “Someone beat us here and searched everything. Check the house for danger.” </p><p>A part of me already was; my survival instinct, alone, was honed enough that I automatically listened for threats no matter where I was. I gave it a modicum more of my attention, listening more closely, and concluded that there were no beings in the home. All of the scents, too, were old, and I couldn’t even pick up a trace of demon <em> vīsh. </em> Good enough. </p><p>
  <em> Kish lēvh.  </em>
</p><p>Shock flit through her mind and into mine. <em> “What are you doing?” </em> she demanded aloud. <em> “Zylas!” </em> </p><p>I gave a sneering chuckle. What was I doing, she asked? </p><p>I was just giving her the same disrespect she was giving <em> me. </em> </p><p>After a short moment, she called more sharply, <em> “Zylas! Daimon, anastethi!” </em> </p><p><em> Kish lēvh! </em> </p><p>My essence burst out of the infernus only to go right back inside it. How long would she keep this up? I could keep it up longer, and I was fully ready to do so. This was a simple thing, really: if she tried to command me, I would refuse to obey. I wondered how long it would take her to realize that. </p><p>
  <em> “Get out here, Zylas!”  </em>
</p><p><em> Make me, </em> my thoughts sneered. </p><p>Her motions sharpened, then, and I had the distinct feeling she was trying to <em> shake </em> me out of the infernus. What a pointless thing to do. </p><p><em> “You’re horrible,” </em> she accused aloud. <em> “Completely </em> useless. <em> We don’t need your help anyway.”  </em></p><p><em> Na, </em> they didn’t? Then I wouldn’t help even if she asked, I decided. I linked my hands behind my head, pretending like I could even feel the reclined pose, and settled in to wait this out. </p><p>Time flit past. Robin’s mind was active as she went about searching the home, and I halfway paid attention -- not intentionally, but because I simply couldn’t <em> not </em> be aware of her. Every time I so much as tried to ignore her, I was reminded of my promise to protect her, and then I couldn’t stop myself from checking to feel if she needed me. </p><p>I was starting to resent that. </p><p>Then her mind...stopped. </p><p>It wasn’t like when she blocked me out. No, this was her thoughts freezing, and I perked up reflexively. What was happening? Her thoughts scattered, fear trickling through our connection. </p><p><em> --a vampire? </em> </p><p><em> Ih? </em> </p><p><em> A vampire had just walked into Claude’s apartment, </em> her stunned mind whispered. </p><p>In...the daylight? It <em> was </em> the time of day, I knew. Vampires couldn’t be out in the day, I’d thought -- not without being harmed by it. That’s what Zora’s words and Robin’s mind had suggested. </p><p><em> “Scared, little mouse?” </em> an unfamiliar male’s voice said, barely audible through the infernus. </p><p>Conflict rose in me. Should I act, or not? Robin <em> had </em> upset me a great deal, and I was far from the point of forgiving her. My promise rang loudly in my mind, but I resisted its pull -- for the moment. Maybe this was exactly what she needed: a reminder about why she needed me, and why she shouldn’t try to control me with the infernus’s commands. </p><p>The male’s voice returned, more clearly than before: <em> “They say ‘fight or flight,’ little mouse, but the most common response to a predator...is to </em> freeze.” </p><p>My hackles rose despite myself. This worthless creature was hunting <em> my payilas? </em> </p><p><em> “Zylas!” </em> </p><p>In an instant, my patience snapped and my decision was made; in the next, I was out of the infernus, scanning for the threat; spotting him mid-lunge, I thrust out my arm, throwing him back so hard he went right over a table and tumbled over the other side. </p><p>Robin immediately stepped up to my side, and I couldn’t resist giving her a harsh look. She hadn’t <em> commanded </em> me this time, yes, but she’d tried to do it twice before and that still had me feeling raw inside. </p><p>As the vampire got back up, then, he commented, “The little mouse is a contractor? Hmm.” </p><p>Then he threw a chair at us. </p><p>I moved aside, the object going pitifully slow to my eyes -- but Robin <em> dove </em> to the floor, hurting herself in the process. I narrowed my gaze on her, realizing all at once that she had no idea how to evade a hunter. In a stupid way, it made sense; she clearly had no training in how to be a hunter, so of course she wouldn’t know how to be prey, either. </p><p>It still had me blinking down at her in disbelief. As the vampire lunged for her a second time, she screamed and surged away -- only to slip and fall flat on her face. Lucky for her the vampire didn’t seem to know how to hunt any more than she knew how to be hunted; he smashed into the wall closest to her and recoiled. </p><p>This...was almost funny. I settled a hand on the counter as I watched the two of them scramble: her to get away, him to catch her. She stared at me imploringly as she crawled under the table and out the other side, the vampire slowly stalking her. </p><p><em> Zh'ūltis. </em> They were both <em> zh'ūltis.  </em></p><p>“Zylas!” Robin gasped. “Fight him!” </p><p><em> “Na?” </em> I returned, shrugging and crossing my arms carelessly. “But I am useless, <em> payilas. </em> That is what you said.” </p><p>She gawked. The vampire leapt again, clearing the table, and she threw herself backwards and over a chair, hurting herself <em> again. </em> I could smell it in the air: her blood. </p><p>The vampire clearly noticed, too. His mouth gaped open, revealing teeth longer and sharper than my own, his eyes changing in a disturbing way, and then he lunged forward. </p><p>Robin went right back under the table but the male managed to snag her ankle, yanking her backwards. I watched more closely, ready to thrust my claws straight through the male’s skull if I had to, but thus far I wasn’t seeing a need. </p><p>Robin disagreed, breathlessly begging, “Zylas! Help me!” </p><p>I considered it, and then her own words echoed in my mind: <em> Caring about others is a waste of time, right? </em> </p><p><em> Hn. </em> She could wait. </p><p>She shook off the vampire on her own, then got up and threw down a chair to hamper the male’s chase. But then she got herself stuck in a corner, backing into it. </p><p>This was getting painful to watch, in its way. How could she not know even how to move? Had no one taught her <em> anything? </em> She kept shrieking in terror, making useless noises, and trying to lunge away before she so much as had a grip on the ground or any idea where she should be going. She’d put herself in a <em> corner. </em> </p><p>I strode around the table to keep them both in sight, fully aware at this point that I couldn’t simply <em> not </em> help -- not if I wanted to keep my promise. </p><p>The vampire got up, still stalking her, and I noticed how the male’s attention didn’t even flicker in my direction. Did he no longer consider me a threat? Or was the scent of her blood that alluring to him? Vampires drank human blood, I knew; it seemed they were incapable of resisting. He’d turned totally unaware of me, the superior hunter, standing an arm’s length behind him. </p><p>Well, that was interesting. </p><p>“Zylas,” Robin breathed, her terror worsening. </p><p>A flicker of a thought passed through my mind: if I did nothing right now, if I allowed the vampire to reach her, I would never have to deal with her again. </p><p>“Zylas! Please!” she screamed, huddling in tighter against the wall. </p><p>But I would miss her, a tiny voice whispered. </p><p>The vampire sprang for her. I sprang for him, my movement faster. My hand caught him by the neck, slamming his head clean through the wall; then, wrenching him back, I pinned him back against the table, summoned my claws, and pierced his heart. It took all of three seconds. </p><p><em> That </em> was how a hunter killed, I thought towards the vampire’s flailing corpse, superiority surging in me. </p><p>That done, my attention swapped to my <em> payilas. </em> Keeping my dripping claws back, I snagged her by the chin, lifting her face as I leaned in close to her. She wedged in tighter to the corner as if it could be of any help at this point. </p><p>“I am no <em> hh’ainun’s </em>slave,” I told her. “Do not try to make me into one.” </p><p>Her fear billowed out around her even thicker than before, more afraid of me, now, than she’d been of the clumsy vampire a moment ago. Satisfied that she understood, I released my hold on her and left her there, deciding to take a closer look around the home. I hadn’t looked at it before, and neither had I <em> tried </em> to scent anything. </p><p>Now that I knew at least one vampire had been here, I thought I should check. This was, at the very least, a disconcerting kind of development. Based on the things Zora had said, I hadn’t expected vampires to be intelligent, let alone capable of searching homes -- and why would they come here, of all places? What did they seek in this house? </p><p>My <em> payilas </em> gasped and heaved for breath for several long moments before she finally moved. She trailed after me, and when she grew close, I shifted my focus down to her. Her thoughts were still silent to me, implying that she very much did <em> not </em> want me to know what she was thinking, and it had involuntary curiosity welling in me. </p><p>What did she want <em> now? </em> </p><p>With visible effort, she forced herself to lift her gaze to mine. “We’re in this together,” she finally bit out, “and whether you think so or not, I’m doing my best to get us where we need to go and learn the things we need to learn. You have only one obligation in all of this -- to <em> protect me.” </em> </p><p>I didn’t reply out loud, but my mind snagged on one particular part of her words: “we”. </p><p><em> Hn. </em> So she didn’t want to get rid of me? No, I decided; she must. She was just recognizing the situation we were <em> both </em> trapped in. <em> If not for you, </em> she’d said. </p><p>That meant she didn’t want me around at all. If she’d had a choice, she would’ve chosen anything else <em>but</em> me.</p><p>My silence worsened her anger and she shouted at me, “You’re bigger than me! You’re stronger and you’re faster! I can’t <em> make </em> you do anything -- except get in or out of the infernus for <em> two seconds! </em> Is that really so offensive to your pride? Is it reason enough to go back on your word? You bully me and disrespect me and torment my only friend and destroy my belongings <em> every day,” </em> she hissed, “but I’m still keeping up <em> my </em> end of our agreement!” </p><p>New anger coiled in me. She thought I was offended because she’d commanded me? Well, I was, but this wasn’t about <em> that </em> -- it was about <em> her </em> going back on <em> her </em> word! She’d told me she wouldn’t use the commands if I didn’t give her reason to, and I hadn’t! </p><p>“I did not go back on my word,” I returned coldly. <em> You did. </em> </p><p>“You let that vampire attack me!” she accused. </p><p><em> That? </em> I almost scoffed. “You were not in danger,” I informed her. Perhaps she’d felt that way, but the male had never been in a position to actually harm her -- not until the end, anyway, when she’d put <em> herself </em> in the corner. </p><p>At once, her expression pinched in both pain and anger. “So the bare minimum is all you’re willing to do? You’ll keep me alive and nothing more?” she demanded, her voice strained. “But you expect far more than <em> my </em> minimum effort.” </p><p>That was...a point, I admitted grudgingly. I <em> had </em> witnessed her working for hours and hours, looking up information and digging for clues. She spent a lot more time and effort on finding Jack and the grimoire than I did in protecting her. Ultimately, she had the more difficult task, and so far protecting her has been all too easy -- except the time she’d called Tahēsh, of course, but at this point that hardly counted. </p><p>She’d based that decision on her misconceptions and had apologized so profusely and repeatedly that I no longer doubted she hadn’t been trying to get me killed. I hadn’t forgiven her for it, of course, but I’d reached the point where I wasn’t angry about it anymore -- especially considering that loss had paved the way to the greatest victory I’d ever earned. </p><p>We still needed to reach an agreement about why the infernus commands were off-limits, but I could at least--</p><p>A new scent assaulted my nose, coinciding with footsteps that sounded and stopped almost at the same second, spearing through my awareness and halting my thoughts completely. I recognized what they were before I looked to confirm it, my arm moving of its own accord to shove my <em> payilas </em> behind me and crowd her back into the wall nearest us. </p><p>There, standing in the open doorway leading to the street, were two more vampires, their scents and corrupted eyes giving them away. </p><p><em> Kasht! </em> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I wrote this while exhausted, so lemme know if y'all find any mistakes! I could definitely use the help. :3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Book 2, Chapter 8-9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>This was...not ideal. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I had no doubt I could handle two vampires; that wasn’t the problem. The problem was Robin and her complete inability to defend herself, </span>
  <em>
    <span>plus</span>
  </em>
  <span> the open doorway. Unless the vampires closed it, I was limited in where I could be and how I could fight. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And</span>
  </em>
  <span> she was bleeding. If they caught her scent and went for her, it’d make things more difficult. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to keep them </span>
  <em>
    <span>both</span>
  </em>
  <span> from reaching her, especially if their actions were too unpredictable to track in a frenzy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>For the moment, though, they simply gazed at us, thoughtful. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Recognize the girl?” the taller male asked the other. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The niece, right?” the shorter one checked, nodding. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Seems so. We should take her alive,” the first one noted. “Might be useful.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine with me,” the second said, then eyed </span>
  <em>
    <span>me.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He tongued his own fangs, then commented, “Don’t want that demon vanishing on us before we get a taste.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>All my muscles flexed in unison, the implication given by that vampire unexpected and confusing and unbelievable. They fed off </span>
  <em>
    <span>hh’ainun</span>
  </em>
  <span> blood -- but they wanted </span>
  <em>
    <span>mine?</span>
  </em>
  <span> What’s more, this suggested they already knew what demon blood tasted like, and that they liked it </span>
  <em>
    <span>more</span>
  </em>
  <span> than human blood. They were singling me out? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Deadly warning oozed from every inch of me -- and they didn’t even seem to notice. As the shorter male -- the one with a weapon -- swung it off his shoulder, he simply said, “This is going to be good.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I moved sideways, keeping my </span>
  <em>
    <span>payilas</span>
  </em>
  <span> behind me, and shoved her towards the corridor. As she darted that way, the vampires finally charged for me; I leapt forward, meeting them in the middle. The weapon -- </span>
  <em>
    <span>sledgehammer,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Robin’s mind supplied me -- swung slowly past me, and I slashed across the male’s chest, drawing blood and splitting flesh. The familiar scent of fresh blood was on him, but as his skin tore, a hint of rot came with it. If I’d doubted they were vampires, this proved it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The male pivoted away, trying to escape; I followed, swinging and spinning, my claws reaching; the taller vampire swung for me and I ducked it, the three of us starting to dance through the room. They were faster than I’d thought -- faster than the first and second vampires had been. Maybe they were better fed? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I was actually having trouble with this, I realized with annoyance. Flipping back to avoid another swing from the weapon, I planted my hands on the ground and kicked at the both of them, one after the other, connecting both times and making them both recoil. Springing back to my feet, I clawed at the taller one; he barely seemed to notice as blood sprayed from the wound.  </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Killing blows,</span>
  </em>
  <span> I cautioned myself. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Wounds are trivial.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The sledgehammer came down again, the heft of it disturbing the air so clearly I didn’t have to look to see it coming. Darting aside, I smacked into the table, halting my evasion and the vampire leapt for my throat, fangs flashing; I jammed my armguard in the way, stopping him dead as his teeth collided with the metal, then hit him so hard in the gut I heard </span>
  <em>
    <span>multiple</span>
  </em>
  <span> of his bones breaking. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Beyond all logic, the vampire just swung his weapon again as if the pain didn’t exist, forcing me to move aside as it came down on the table -- and broke it into pieces with a loud </span>
  <em>
    <span>crack.</span>
  </em>
  <span> The taller male tackled into me in the next second before my feet had settled; I was thrown back onto the floor. He seized my wrists -- as if he could possibly match my strength -- and I shoved to dislodge him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>My hands went nowhere, his own strength matching mine, and shock descended. </span>
  <em>
    <span>They aren’t particularly strong,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Zora had said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She was wrong, I realized with mounting horror. They were nearly as fast as I was -- </span>
  <em>
    <span>and</span>
  </em>
  <span> as strong. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>She was wrong.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>My eyes caught on movement then and saw the shorter male standing over me, his sledgehammer raised high as he smiled cruelly down at me. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Kasht --</span>
  </em>
  <span> I couldn’t avoid that, not as long as this other male had my arms! And I couldn’t guess how strong the blow would be, I didn’t know if it would break anything, how badly he could injure me! </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Salvation appeared in the most unexpected of ways: Robin, dashing from her safe corner to leap up and snag the weapon, using her whole weight to pull on it. It threw off the vampire enough that he dropped the object, thudding into the ground at her feet, and then he rounded on her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She recognized her own stupid plan the same moment I did, retreating backwards again and tripping on the carpet to land on her rear. The vampire advanced; panic surged in my veins, so thick I barely noticed the vampire on top of me leaning closer, mouth agape. She was so weak and fragile, and these vampires were so much stronger than I’d been led to believe -- if he got his claws in her--! </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Daimon, hesychaze!</span>
  </em>
  <span> her voice yelped in my mind. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Surprise, relief, and a measure of awe reached me as I was forced to return to the infernus. In an instant I was free of the vampire </span>
  <em>
    <span>and</span>
  </em>
  <span> in the proper position to protect my </span>
  <em>
    <span>payilas.</span>
  </em>
  <span> It left me conflicted regarding the commands, even as I reformed already swinging, my claws delving easily through the shorter vampire’s chest, stopping his heart. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That was clever of her, I admitted as I pictured a particular </span>
  <em>
    <span>vīsh </span>
  </em>
  <span>in my mind and slashed my arm sideways towards the taller one as he scrambled to his feet; crimson power formed a simple, arcing blade that flew across the distance between us and severed his head from his body. Both vampires -- and one head -- fell to the ground in a trio of thuds.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A quick glance at the front door and a sniff confirmed there were no others, and then I looked down at Robin, leaning back on her hands. Her eyes were wide and her breathing harsh as she gawked at the bodies. She’d done a clever thing, using the command in a smart way, changing it from an attempt at control into a combat strategy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It didn’t burn as much this time. I begrudgingly admitted that it might actually be useful in the future -- provided she </span>
  <em>
    <span>only</span>
  </em>
  <span> used the commands for this and nothing else. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>In an instant, I reassessed her, deciding that her simply being off to the side was no longer enough. She’d done a brave thing, even if it was foolish; that meant she had potential, but first she needed to learn a great deal. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Payilas</span>
  </em>
  <span> was no longer a fitting nickname for her, I noted. She could be more than a child -- given the right training and a lot of practice. A new, more fitting word came to mind. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So helpless, </span>
  <em>
    <span>drādah,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> I murmured to her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Irritation flickered through her and she gave me a hard look. “I helped,” she pointed out. “Or didn’t you notice while that vampire was holding you down?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That reminder had agitation filling me, my tail lashing angrily. “The female </span>
  <em>
    <span>hh’ainun</span>
  </em>
  <span> said vampires are not strong,” I complained. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She did,” Robin agreed, pushing herself up with difficulty, her scent awash with pain. “These vampires looked pretty strong.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then, as the stairs creaked under weight, she spun, alarmed, her frantic nerves driving her to move backwards -- again -- though this time she smacked into </span>
  <em>
    <span>me </span>
  </em>
  <span>instead of falling over, at least. Amalia was peeking around the edge of the wall, pale; I’d recognized her presence there already, so I didn’t react. It was no surprise. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is it over?” she asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Annoyance flicked through Robin’s mind. “Yeah. Thanks for your help,” she hinted. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like I would’ve been of any use,” Amalia retorted, descending the final steps and coming towards us. Pointedly not looking at the corpses, she asked, “Robin, did you hear what they said? They recognized you as ‘the niece’.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cousin, niece, uncle -- all these familial terms were confusing, but I thought Robin was the </span>
  <em>
    <span>niece</span>
  </em>
  <span> to Jack’s position as </span>
  <em>
    <span>uncle.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait, as in </span>
  <em>
    <span>Uncle Jack’s</span>
  </em>
  <span> niece?” she helpfully confirmed. “How do they know Uncle Jack? Unless--” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Unless they’re also looking for my dad,” Amalia finished. “There was a vampire at our house too. They’re searching for him. They beat us here and--” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They searched this house for clues about Uncle Jack’s location,” Robin agreed, her gaze drawn to the sledgehammer, “just like we wanted to. But what would vampires want with a demon summoner?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know,” Amalia replied softly. “But there’s a real good chance they might find my dad before we do.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That would be...unfortunate, I thought, irritated. I still needed to get my claws in him. Robin was set on me not killing the male, but there were plenty of ways to </span>
  <em>
    <span>hurt</span>
  </em>
  <span> him without ending his life, and I owed him recompense for this entire situation. If the vampires got to him first, though, I might never get the chance. They might kill him before I could enact any of my malicious plans. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>My gaze dropped to the top of Robin’s head. She had better do her part and find the man before then. And, in the efforts of enabling this, I begrudgingly admitted that I could help at least a little bit, even if only in the sense of stopping my occasional destruction of her property. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Or -- </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hnn.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Or I could teach her a few things about avoiding death. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-- </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Drādah zh'ūltis! </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>I sighed, thinking of the day’s events. She’d gone back to the guild shortly after we’d left Claude’s home, only to then </span>
  <em>
    <span>agree</span>
  </em>
  <span> to help the hunter Zora find more vampires, and then we’d returned here only for her to continue caring for the </span>
  <em>
    <span>kitten.</span>
  </em>
  <span> She’d even named it, the fool. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Socks,</span>
  </em>
  <span> a reference to the cat’s three white paws crossed with a kind of </span>
  <em>
    <span>hh’ainun</span>
  </em>
  <span> clothing. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Zh'ūltis. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>I spent some time in the living room, thinking, pondering. If she was to go on this hunt, and with others, it would be troublesome. I couldn’t use my magic if I had to, couldn’t act in any way that might reveal I was in control of myself. That meant she needed to be able to defend herself better -- maybe not to fight, but at least to </span>
  <em>
    <span>evade.</span>
  </em>
  <span> She had no idea how to do this, but I was beginning to understand that this was not such an uncommon thing in this world. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Combat</span>
  </em>
  <span> was uncommon, so those who didn’t expect to encounter combat didn’t train to protect themselves. Robin had lived one of these non-threatening lives, and so she didn’t know how to be safe. Neither did Amalia, I thought, but I hardly cared whether or not </span>
  <em>
    <span>she</span>
  </em>
  <span> died to vampires. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Getting up, I decided I should talk to Robin. I wasn’t sure she would listen, but it was important that she do so. Things were clearly getting </span>
  <em>
    <span>more</span>
  </em>
  <span> dangerous and I couldn’t protect her from multiple enemies -- not if we were also in a group of </span>
  <em>
    <span>hh’ainun.</span>
  </em>
  <span> She needed to learn better. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>...She was going to hate having to learn better, I knew already. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I strode to her room, opened the door, found her already in her bed, and approached her. She gazed up at me in silence for a moment, visibly tired, and I wondered if maybe now wasn’t the time to do this. If she was tired, how well would she be able to hear me? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Going out tonight?” she murmured. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Var,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> I answered, </span>
  <em>
    <span>but not yet.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She contemplated that for a moment, her mind active. Then she closed her eyes, relaxing, and said, “Zora texted me. She’s organizing a vampire hunt for tomorrow evening.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I knew that part already; I’d been listening. But I checked, “These vampires, don’t they prefer night?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, but she’s the expert. I’m sure she has a reason,” she said, blinking her eyes open again to gaze up at me, concern visible on her. “Should we back out?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The fact that she said </span>
  <em>
    <span>we</span>
  </em>
  <span> and not </span>
  <em>
    <span>I</span>
  </em>
  <span> was promising. It meant she valued my opinion on the matter -- and, I thought, my own safety. Was she worried about my chances of fending off more vampires? She needn’t be; I’d learned a great deal from fighting the two earlier today. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I</span>
  </em>
  <span> could fight them, but then, it wasn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span> that had me concerned. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m worried,” she confessed when I didn’t reply. “The vampires this morning gave you a lot of trouble. If we hunt them at night, when they’re even stronger, and you can’t use magic…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She </span>
  <em>
    <span>had</span>
  </em>
  <span> been thinking about this, then. Good. She was getting smarter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I sat on the bed, facing her, and commented, “I am not helpless like you, </span>
  <em>
    <span>drādah.</span>
  </em>
  <span> I know how they fight now.” They wouldn’t get me pinned like today ever again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ignoring the first part, she said, </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Dray-da?</span>
  </em>
  <span> What does that mean?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I smirked at her. Her confusion over the words I wouldn’t translate was amusing, and her irritation more so. I wondered if I could make her angry enough to keep her awake, then reminded myself that I had a different point to make. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Whapping her on the leg -- she jolted -- I informed her, “You are weak.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Glowering at that, she rolled over, presenting me with her back. It was hard not to laugh. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are slow and easy to scare,” I continued brutally. “When you see hunters, you scream and fall down.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, thank you,” she retorted, irritated. “And I’m helpless and stupid, too. You don’t need to keep reminding me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oddly enough, she spoke the truth. She truly believed this about herself, and it irritated me all over again. I’d seen her potential today (limited </span>
  <em>
    <span>hh’ainun</span>
  </em>
  <span> potential, yes, but potential nonetheless) and I now knew she could be more. She just didn’t seem to know that. She’d shown courage and cleverness, and those, alone, were promising. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I canted my head at her, thoughtful. Then, shifting to my hands and knees, I braced myself over her, looking into her face -- and making sure she was paying attention. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This was important. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She noticed my new, much closer position right away, gasping, “Zylas!”  Twisting away from my face, she crammed herself under me, biting out, “Would you--” and then halting abruptly as she realized what she’d done. Then she froze -- again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I almost sighed. “You are bad prey,” I concluded. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can you lay off the insults for two minutes?” she complained. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Insults? I was not insulting her -- not this time. No, this was an assessment of her abilities, not a mockery. Leaning down further, I said, firm, “Listen, </span>
  <em>
    <span>drādah.</span>
  </em>
  <span> I am telling you an important thing.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ignoring that, she demanded, “Get off my bed.” </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Nul.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She had to listen now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I pushed myself up, then promptly sat on her hips, my weight pinning her down. She gaped at me, disbelief -- and fear -- surging in her mind. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Panic brimming, she demanded, “Zylas, get off--” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I clamped a hand over her mouth. A vain action, I knew, given she could talk to me in her mind -- when she wanted to -- but I needed to impress on her just how important this was. And her fear worsened, the scent of it reaching me. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Desperation tinged her thoughts as she sent to me, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Don’t make me use the infernus command.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You are not listening, </span>
  <em>
    <span>drādah,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> I told her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Growling against my palm, she snapped, </span>
  <em>
    <span>This is not making me want to listen!</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You must listen anyway,” I said simply. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That seemed to reach her and she paused, even her thoughts stilling. She was focused, finally. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When you are scared,” I began, “you scream and fall. I watched you. You do not evade your hunter. You do all the wrong things.” Which, I begrudgingly admitted, was not her own fault; she’d probably never been hunted before and no one had taught her, either. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just like a </span>
  <em>
    <span>payilas.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Her eyes burned with anger at my words, and I caught a glimpse of a thought from her: self-deprecating, hopeless, critical. She viewed herself as </span>
  <em>
    <span>imadnul.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She needed to stop thinking such things about herself. It was the first step to becoming smarter: having confidence in herself. Squeezing her cheeks -- carefully, minding my claws -- as a chide, I tried to impress on her the importance of this. She wouldn’t be smart prey if she didn’t believe she could. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She didn’t appreciate my efforts, apparently; she grabbed my wrist and tried to wrench my grip loose. I didn’t let go. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Against many enemies,” I continued, “I cannot be beside you every moment. You will be in danger.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her head tilted a fraction, her attention snagging. </span>
  <em>
    <span>What are you saying?</span>
  </em>
  <span> she asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Given she seemed ready to finally listen, I lifted my hand away from her mouth (the feel of her lips was getting distracting, anyway) and explained, “You must learn differently before we hunt the vampires.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Learn differently?” she echoed, baffled. “I don’t understand.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Exhaustion, reluctance and irritation filled me. I didn’t want to do this, but who else would take on this task? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hh’ainun</span>
  </em>
  <span> were pitiful hunters, and vampires -- while definitely being pitiful hunters, too -- were still the superior predator. No one else would be able to teach her better than me: a demon. I knew better than any other </span>
  <em>
    <span>hh’ainun</span>
  </em>
  <span> -- better than any vampire. I knew better than most other demons, even. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I was the </span>
  <em>
    <span>best</span>
  </em>
  <span> hunter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I exhaled a long, weary huff, envisioning the future with preemptive weariness. “I will teach you,” I decided. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>My words did the opposite of soothing her; she tensed, her fingers tightening around my wrist, her mind spiraling with new thoughts and surging with reluctance of her own. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Teach me what, exactly?” she ventured cautiously, her head tilting. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I leaned down to her, taking a closer look at her eyes and making absolutely certain she could see </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span> in the darkness. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I will teach you how to be </span>
  <em>
    <span>drādah ahktallis,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> I told her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She retreated as far as her fluffy pillow would allow, stammering, “How to be </span>
  <em>
    <span>what?”</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>I gave a laugh. That’s right; she didn’t know these words. I had intentionally not told her. Well, I thought, now was a good time to explain. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Smart prey,” I crooned. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-- </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I spent a good portion of the night exploring, looking for a proper place to give Robin her lessons. The </span>
  <em>
    <span>place </span>
  </em>
  <span>was one of the most important parts of this, so it had to be just right. Wilderness would work best, someplace with no </span>
  <em>
    <span>hh’ainun</span>
  </em>
  <span> but plenty of distractions and unlimited places to hide. I could scent places like this, but they were too far for me to scout; I couldn’t risk going too far from Robin. I wasn’t sure how far the infernus’s reach went, if she could summon me back if she needed me if I was too far. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I’d have to leave this to her, I admitted. She would be able to travel much farther. Decided, I returned to the apartment just before dawn to ponder on the right ways to teach her. Obviously I couldn’t teach her the way I’d been taught; she was far too breakable for that, and every wound she received caused another scar. Maybe it was bizarre of me, but I hated those marks on her skin. It looked wrong. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Every time she pivoted her head, the mark on her neck stood out, and it always brought back the memory of the rage I’d felt that day. No; I couldn’t teach her the way I’d been taught. I needed no more reminders of just how easy it was to kill this creature I’d sworn to keep safe. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>My mother -- my teacher -- hadn’t been kind with her lessons. I harbored no ill will towards her for that; she’d recognized that, as a Vh’alyir, my life would be constant war anyway. I would be hunted every day of my life. If I were to survive, I needed to be better, smarter prey than any other. So she’d taught me harshly and relentlessly, day by day and night by night. Her claws had rent my flesh innumerable times, using the pain to help me learn. Then she’d heal me and the next day we’d do it again. My oldest memories were of </span>
  <em>
    <span>her</span>
  </em>
  <span> hunting </span>
  <em>
    <span>me,</span>
  </em>
  <span> her claws tearing through me when I failed to hide myself well enough. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I couldn’t use these tactics on Robin. She would break. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>By the time she rose from her slumber I had a different plan in mind. First step: have her take me with her to someplace deep in the wilderness. Second step: teach her the right way to move so she wouldn’t fall down so much. Third step -- provided she even managed the second step, and I held out no hope of that -- teach her how to get out of holds and pins. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>What she needed, above all else, was </span>
  <em>
    <span>distance</span>
  </em>
  <span> from the hunter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Unsurprisingly, she resisted when I told her to get ready to do this. Apparently, she didn’t think I was serious -- at first. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I made it abundantly clear that I was </span>
  <em>
    <span>serious.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Eventually she relented and agreed -- after she’d eaten. She went through her morning routine, then told Amalia where she was going and why, and then we left. I waited in the infernus for a ridiculously long time, long enough to grow suspicious that she might not be doing as ordered, but everything I could sense said she was obeying. Her thoughts didn’t taste of deceit, she hadn’t lied when she promised to do this, and I could feel her form moving as she traveled. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Okay, Zylas.”</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>I almost sighed when she called me, but not from relief -- from annoyance. How many times did I have to coach her on how to say my name before she got it right? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pulling myself from the infernus, I glanced around at where she’d brought us. Wilderness -- good. Everywhere I looked I couldn’t see the end of it, meaning it was secluded, too. It was very green, as well, the trees different from those I’d seen before. Rain fell steadily but lightly, each pelt cold against my skin yet far too mild to cause any distress on my part. I could already feel my clothing growing damp from it, though Robin was shielded under a handheld canopy of cloth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Robin was tense, watching me. “So, um,” she prompted, clearing her throat. “We’re here.” </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Hn.</span>
  </em>
  <span> The ground was soft, I noted as I knelt down to test it. That was good; she was undoubtedly going to be falling a lot and the fewer wounds she got, the better. It’d be annoying to have to stop frequently to heal her before we could continue. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When I remained silent, she asked, “Are you going to teach me how to defend myself?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” I denied, standing and facing her. “Prey does not </span>
  <em>
    <span>defend</span>
  </em>
  <span> against the hunter.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Startled, she demanded, “How is learning to be ‘smart prey’ helpful? I don’t want to be hunted. I want to--” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What prey wants to be hunted?” I cut her off. “The prey does not get to choose.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But--” she started. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Snagging her coat, I pulled her up onto her toes. Her fear spiraled up and she dropped her shield -- an </span>
  <em>
    <span>umbrella </span>
  </em>
  <span>-- and held onto my wrist, though whether she was trying to hold up her own weight or admonish me, I didn’t know. It was equally foolish either way. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are small and weak, </span>
  <em>
    <span>drādah,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> I told her, easily hefting her slight weight higher in example. I was three times her weight -- and I was from the </span>
  <em>
    <span>smallest </span>
  </em>
  <span>demon House. Even </span>
  <em>
    <span>payashē </span>
  </em>
  <span>were almost twice her weight despite them being the same size as her. “Hunters will come for you,” I continued, “and you cannot fight them. You must learn how not to die.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I relaxed my grip, letting her fall back onto her own feet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She backed up from me with a strangled kind of gasp, already doing the wrong thing. “How do I not die, then?” she demanded. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“By being smart prey,” I answered, striding around her, assessing her. She was brave when it counted, but the rest of the time her fear got the better of her. It was time that she learned better. “You react to fear in the wrong ways. You make it easy for the hunter.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She stiffened, tense, as I went, and once my circle was complete, she scowled at me. “I’m not--” she began. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I leapt at her -- just an example, this time, but enough to get my point across. She recoiled with a gasp, her foot catching on a root (the one I’d intentionally put directly behind her) and, predictably, she flailed and fell backwards on her rear. I was on her in an instant, knelt over her, my claws lightly pressed against her tender </span>
  <em>
    <span>hh’ainun</span>
  </em>
  <span> throat. She stared up at me with silent terror, eyes wide, breath caught. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And now you are dead,” I told her, my tail swishing across the soft grass. Giving her thudding vein a telling tap, I said, “See? This is what I am telling you, </span>
  <em>
    <span>drādah.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“You scared me,” she complained. “I didn’t mean to fall.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That is why you must learn a different way,” I explained. Then, with a shove, I pushed myself back to my feet and offered her a hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Disbelief and suspicion colored her expression as she blinked up at me, and annoyance flicked through me. What did she think I would do, pull my hand back before she could grasp it? Such tricks were beneath me. She clearly had the wrong idea of me if she thought I would toy with her like that. Sure, I enjoyed tugging her around and holding her in my grasp, but that was completely different. I just liked her softness and her pique; it was funny when she struggled ineffectually. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But all of my offers, at least, were genuine. I wouldn’t lie, even in action. Not to </span>
  <em>
    <span>her.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>I needed her devotion too much to risk it with petty humors. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a second she reached up and took my hand, and I tugged her up to her feet. She actually looked surprised that I hadn’t thrown her or something else equally ridiculous or counter-productive. She was here to learn; if she couldn’t trust me, she should at least trust </span>
  <em>
    <span>that.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>My wet hair was starting to impede my sight, so I swiped it aside, saying, “Do not go backward. That is why you fall so much,” I informed her. “You cannot see where to step. Go sideways. Keep your sight on the hunter. If you turn your back, you will die.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She looked doubtful. “Sideways,” she echoed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sideways,” I confirmed. Gesturing myself, I invited, “I will show you. Attack me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her face reddened in that odd way again and she prompted, “How…?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do not think, just attack,” I directed her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She hesitated, clearly </span>
  <em>
    <span>thinking</span>
  </em>
  <span> despite the fact that I’d just told her not to, and made an attempt at a threatening step forward. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>What? “Gh’vrish?”</span>
  </em>
  <span> I demanded, my face pinching in disbelief. What was that supposed to be, an infant’s first step? Annoyance had my tail snapping side to side as I ordered, “Try harder, </span>
  <em>
    <span>drādah.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>She couldn’t have looked more out of place trying to be a hunter, but I saw her focus herself. That was good, at least. She was trying. And then, mimicking how she’d seen me move before (I thought), she coiled up and sprang at me. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Finally.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>I stepped backwards the way she always did, though it took effort on </span>
  <em>
    <span>my</span>
  </em>
  <span> part not to look over my shoulder. She jumped again and I retreated again, one after the other, until the inevitable happened: my heel caught on something I couldn’t see. My feet stumbled and tail whipped to regain my balance, and my </span>
  <em>
    <span>drādah </span>
  </em>
  <span>collided with me and rebounded, her own balance broken. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I snagged her before she could fall, steadying her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You see, </span>
  <em>
    <span>drādah?”</span>
  </em>
  <span> I prompted. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She was winded from even that much exertion, but her eyes were wide and bright with understanding. She nodded, answering, “I could just keep charging you. It made it easy to keep attacking,” she worked out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Good. She was learning. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I pushed her back, putting distance between us, then ordered, “Now attack again.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She didn’t hesitate this time, and I noticed how that small break seemed to funnel energy back into her; her next leap was faster and less shaky than her last had been. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still pitifully slow, yes, but it was interesting. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hh’ainun</span>
  </em>
  <span> recovered so differently from demons. They tired so much quicker, only to recover in moments just from resting -- not to mention they generated their own warmth, not needing it from outside sources. I tried not to feel jealous of that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I shifted aside from her leap this time and her jump nearly ended in a stumble as she slid across the grass. By the time she’d steadied herself and turned, I had already moved several steps away, circling her. For her benefit, I even made my sideways glance more telling, slower -- so she could see it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Startled, she murmured, “Oh.” </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Perfect.</span>
  </em>
  <span> I couldn’t hold back a smile, pleased that she’d caught on so quick. “You understand, </span>
  <em>
    <span>na?”</span>
  </em>
  <span> I prompted her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” she agreed, and for the first time in days, I felt her mind slip open just a little. In that peek, I caught her analyzing her clumsy retreat from the vampire yesterday -- and her annoyance and disapproval aimed at herself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She understood. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now,” I continued, my muscles coiling in preparation, “you will practice.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her mind stuttered. “Wait,” she urged, stun pooling in her. “I’m not ready. What--” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Prey must </span>
  <em>
    <span>always</span>
  </em>
  <span> be ready to run, I thought, dashing towards her regardless of whether or not she was prepared. And, of course, she threw herself backward and toppled right over. This time there’d been nothing behind her; it was her own panic that made her fall. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At least she didn’t end up flat on her back this time, I thought dryly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When she glanced up at me, chagrined, I offered her my hand. Patience wasn’t my greatest strength, but I’d expected this -- I’d expected her to fail for a very long time before she fixed her </span>
  <em>
    <span>zh'ūltis </span>
  </em>
  <span>instincts. And, once she let me pull her back up, I separated us again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Try again,” I told her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This time I heard her mind audibly repeating </span>
  <em>
    <span>step sideways</span>
  </em>
  <span> to herself as she readied herself to do as ordered. But when I sprang at her, her conflicted mind just had her pivoting in place; unable to alter my trajectory, I smacked right into her and she went off her feet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Twisting, I caught her before she could splay on the ground again -- she’d probably have broken one of her fragile bones if I let her -- and put her right back on her feet. Aggravation had her angrily brushing her hair off her face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This time </span>
  <em>
    <span>she</span>
  </em>
  <span> was the one to say, “Again.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her determination was a good thing. And when I charged at her again she actually managed to dart sideways -- but could she manage it when she </span>
  <em>
    <span>wasn’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> expecting it? I twisted, tail flinging to help my sharp turn, and jumped at her again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She wheeled backwards and her heel caught on a mound of soft dirt and over she went. Frustration surged in her mind, angry at herself. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Argh!”</span>
  </em>
  <span> she shouted. “Why can’t I do this? It’s simple. It should be easy!” she snapped -- towards herself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your instincts tell you to go backward,” I answered her, coming to crouch on my toes beside her. “That is hard to change.” I’d been prepared to keep at this all day, ready to forcibly realign her instincts regardless of how long it took. She, apparently, had thought she’d have it down to muscle memory in minutes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Foolish. She was human; after killing dozens of them, I was well aware that their instincts were one of their greatest weaknesses. When a hunter came for them from the front, they did all the wrong things. All of them; Robin was not an anomaly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The way she looked at me, then, was a mixture of confused and expectant. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Impassively gazing at her, I commented, </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Hh’ainun </span>
  </em>
  <span>instincts are stupid. It is why you are all so easy to kill.” </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Ah, there was the insult,</span>
  </em>
  <span> her mind commented, her emotions settling. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I almost snorted. </span>
  <em>
    <span>That</span>
  </em>
  <span> was what she’d been expecting? A condescending observation? I made a mental note to keep it up, then -- and not only because it was funny. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then, nodding to herself, she pushed herself up, ready to try again. Her willingness to do this despite the fact that she’d end up </span>
  <em>
    <span>bruised</span>
  </em>
  <span> from the efforts was -- good? Impressive? I wasn’t sure of the word, but I was pleased. Determination was flooding her mind, her attention focused on me and what she needed to learn. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Drādah ahktallis -- just a little, </span>
  </em>
  <span>I thought. She was nowhere near ready to protect herself, but she was trying to learn, and that was the first step. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>What followed was a steady string of failures following the same sequence: her fear made her go backwards, she forced herself not to do it the next time, and then she would go backward again as soon as I changed my angle of attack. It was an exercise in futility at this point, and by the time she was too exhausted to continue, my patience was strung taut. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This kind of lesson was clearly not working. I swept my gaze over her as she remained on the ground, panting and wincing, her scent saturated in pain. She was almost to the point of expiring from exertion; I needed to try something else. Something that gave her time to keep herself in the right mindset, something that gave her the space to breathe and recover. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You must practice when you cannot see the hunter coming,” I concluded; she lifted her gaze with effort, already suspicious and scared. “You will walk in the trees,” I told her, “and I will hunt you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her eyes widened in terror at the very prospect. “That doesn’t seem like a good idea,” she squeaked. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Na?”</span>
  </em>
  <span> I challenged. “Why not?” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Say it,</span>
  </em>
  <span> I projected; she failed to hear me. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She struggled with herself for a moment, then choked out, “I’m tired.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I was aware of that -- that was half the reason I chose this. It’d be easier on her fragile </span>
  <em>
    <span>hh’ainun</span>
  </em>
  <span> body. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So weak, </span>
  <em>
    <span>drādah,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> I crooned, then pointed behind her. “Walk,” I ordered firmly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Though every last shred of her mind resisted, she forced herself back to her feet and started stomping out of the clearing and into the thick of the trees. I rolled my eyes; she was already declaring her presence in blatant disregard for all this effort. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Silent and lethally graceful, I shifted behind a near tree, taking a glance around the area. Aside from the dark brought on by the clouds obscuring the daylight, there was also a thin fog blanketing everything, and the rain had further softened the ground. Perfect. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I tracked her more by the sounds of her steps than anything else, stalking her. I peeked from around trees, hid in the branches, slid into thick bushes -- and, sometimes, just for fun, I hid just behind her, far enough that she couldn’t feel my heat. She paused so often, pivoting and scanning the trees and trying so desperately to locate me -- but she never did. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She had no idea how many times she was within arm’s reach of me, and I had to keep reminding myself that I wasn’t doing this for </span>
  <em>
    <span>fun.</span>
  </em>
  <span> She was here to learn and I was her teacher. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eventually I left her be to take a closer look at the scenery and located a steep decline down into a muddy gulch. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Perfect.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Changing up my tactics, I started herding her, driving her closer to the edge. She clearly sensed me enough to keep moving away from me, and I used it to my advantage. When she was close enough, watching her from above, I stepped down from my perch to softly land at her side -- where she could see me. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I was already pouncing at her by the time her attention swiveled to me, and she screamed as she lurched back -- one step, two, and then she was tipping over as her foot failed to find solid ground. I halted at the edge of the decline, watching as she smacked flat on her back and proceeded to tumble all the way to the bottom, getting herself absolutely covered in mud along the way. It was hilarious. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was no humor in it for me, though. I’d given her so much time to coach herself, to ready herself, and she’d given into terror in a snap. She clearly needed harder lessons to learn this thing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She gaped up at me for a solid few moments, rain pattering her prone form, before she forced herself up, her body sticking to the muck. She examined herself in disgust before turning a hard, betrayed kind of expression to me. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why didn’t you catch me?” she demanded. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Because she needed harsher repercussions than exhaustion, that was why. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Annoyance had my tail snapping as I told her pitilessly, “You should have gone sideways.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You--” she choked out, rage twisting her features and flowing from her mind. “Did you make me fall down here </span>
  <em>
    <span>on purpose?”</span>
  </em>
  <span> she demanded, almost growling. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I could feel my tail flicking harshly as I retorted, “Next time, go sideways.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her jaw flexed, fury coiling in her both visibly and through our connection. Then, as she heaved herself to her feet, it eclipsed her ability to cope and she started screaming at me. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I recognized some words and terms, but others were foreign -- and all were insults and judgements. My lips peeled back in a harsh snarl as I recognized each and every word as abject truth, offense flaring in response. I’d gone and put so much effort into teaching her this and she felt I’d been toying with her for my own amusement? She called me sadistic and cruel and insensitive, judged me </span>
  <em>
    <span>lesser</span>
  </em>
  <span> -- and meant all that she said. All this I’d done for her, and this was how she repaid me! </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fine, then. I wouldn’t bother with continuing the lesson, as I’d planned -- let alone giving her a second.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe getting caught by vampires and clawed and bitten would teach her better, instead! </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Man, it's weird to realize that at the start, almost all of the chapter rewrites were done in threes. The very first chapter covered 7, even. And now I'm only managing 2 at a time. </p><p>idk I find that really interesting. :3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Book 2, Chapter 10-12</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Trying to teach Robin had been the biggest waste of time of my entire life, I thought, scowling into the blankness of the infernus. She’d turned on me so quickly, and without a shred of either remorse or gratitude. That’s the last I try to teach her <em> anything, </em> I decided. She could learn all the other important things about <em> not dying </em> on her own. </p><p>A tiny voice corrected me, reminding me that no, she wouldn’t -- because <em> I </em> was here to keep her safe. </p><p>I growled in irritation, my mind casting back to our fight -- well, argument, anyway. I hadn’t <em> fought </em> her. She’d be dead now if I’d brought my claws in. Which I had, I admitted, just not towards <em> her; </em> I’d shredded the backrest of the couch and my tail had gouged furrows into the walls and floor cabinets before she’d ordered me into the infernus to halt the destruction. </p><p>I was still fuming from it all. At this point I was staying in the infernus willingly for two reasons: the first was the upcoming hunt she’d stupidly agreed to join, and the second was the reminder that I shouldn’t be wrecking her things anyway. </p><p>The damage my tail had done was unintentional and the damage to the couch was reflexive; I’d needed to bury my claws in <em> something </em> to get out this frustration and there were no enemies conveniently within reach. To my aggravated mind, the couch had been a good substitution. </p><p>But I’d told myself before to stop breaking things given how much it was upsetting her, so I was staying in the infernus by choice. For now. <em> Compromise, </em> I reminded myself. I could break plenty of things later tonight, after she’d gone to bed and I’d gone out. </p><p>Hours passed until it was time for her to go, and the entire time I was desperately coaching myself to calm down. Whether or not I was ready to face more vampires was <em> imadnul; </em> the hunt was coming and I needed to get in the right mindset <em> before </em> then. </p><p>I wondered if she knew and appreciated how much effort I put into keeping her safe. Right now her mind was silent except for the occasional angry comment sent my way. </p><p>I decided she didn’t need to know. </p><p><em> Vampires, </em> I told myself fiercely. <em> Focus. </em> I took the time to analyze how they fought again and examine the differences between the four I’d already killed -- well, three, I corrected. Technically Zora had killed the first one. That one hardly counted, anyway. It was clearly already inches from death by the time we’d found it. </p><p>The power difference between them was the worrying aspect. But, then, I’d fought and killed numerous beings stronger than myself. All it took was a good plan and cunning and speed, all for which I was an expert. Vampires were new enemies, yes, but I was learning that even the strong ones were easy to kill. </p><p><em> Ambush always wins, </em> I thought to myself, pride suffusing me. I was the best at ambush. </p><p>Robin’s mind finally pulled away from her stewing anger then, focusing, and I recognized her recognizing Zora. Shaking myself, I listened, readying to hear everything the female might share about this hunt. Everything I learned increased Robin’s chances of surviving this. </p><p>There were others, I learned first. Zora pointed out the <em> hh’ainun </em>and explained their roles, declaring herself as Robin’s partner (a part of me rankled at that; I had to remind myself that, to them, I was a literal tool). Then she finally explained their task and it had me relaxing. They didn’t expect to fight anything tonight, then. </p><p>As much as I lamented not being able to hunt anything -- the restlessness of this partnership with Robin was getting to me -- I was glad to not have her in the path of danger. Really, it would be best if I could hunt without her involved at all. </p><p>Sure, I hunted frequently in the night, but those were largely stalking games for the sake of keeping my senses honed. Other than the four <em> hh’ainun </em> males who’d deserved my claws, I hadn’t hurt or even revealed myself to anyone in all this time. It wasn’t the same as getting to actually kill my targets. </p><p>I missed it. </p><p>Robin’s fear was increasing, I noticed then. The group had stopped somewhere but with her mind shuttered like this I had a hard time understanding where they were or what they were doing. The best I could discern was that they were heading <em> down </em> somewhere. Underground, maybe? </p><p>That made sense, I thought. If vampires were averse to daylight, of course they’d hide underground. </p><p>It took time for her to descend, I noted. She resisted every step, the fear of her mind steadily increasing by the second. I groaned into the darkness around me; why must she make everything more difficult than it already was? </p><p>They were traveling, now, and the rush of water nearly drowned out everything. I had to rely on Robin’s unconscious thoughts, repeating what she heard, to keep up when they started talking. <em> Darren, </em> she identified one male, nicknaming him <em> the bully. </em> The one I’d pinned to the “bar” before, she helpfully added. </p><p><em> Na -- him? </em> I had a legitimate urge to pop out of the infernus and see how far he could fly with a single backhand to the face. </p><p>He asked her how many vampires she’d “bagged” -- three, she said -- then taunted her, asking if she’d ever been bitten by one. At that, I perked up, listening closer; Zora had warned about a vampire bite before, but she’d been cut off before she could explain. Would they explain it, now? </p><p>Robin asked if she’d become a vampire if she were bitten (horror flared in me at the concept), but Zora denied that. She explained that a vampire bite increased the <em> risk </em> of infection but it wasn’t a guarantee. Then Darren’s voice reached me, adding that the infection wasn’t the problem. <em> Hnn. </em> A bite would paralyze the victim? Robin’s mind had to partly translate what the male was saying for me to understand it, but that was the impression I was getting. </p><p>Being bitten left <em> hh’ainun </em> weak and unable to move, apparently. </p><p>Some bickering followed but Robin remained silent throughout, her fear spiking higher. The sound of the water was growing louder, too, making it even harder for me to hear. I almost wished she would be smart enough to call me now; she could make any argument she wanted for why I was there, I didn’t particularly care. I just wanted to be able to see things clearly, to know what was happening. </p><p>All this noise and quiet, blank fear from Robin was starting to make me anxious. </p><p>Time slid past with aching slowness, my senses keying sharper the longer this hunt dragged on -- and in direct response to the increasing roar of water rushing. Why was <em> that </em> getting louder? Where were they? And why did I keep feeling Robin’s mind washing with fear, never abating, always rising? </p><p>Apart from the occasional even louder crash of water, I could hear nothing. I thought, maybe, I was hearing Zora from time to time, but it was so faint, now. Were they still together? Zora had said she would partner with Robin; that meant they were together, yes? </p><p>Then why was it so hard to hear her? </p><p>I felt an impact, then -- no, not me, I corrected. <em> Robin. </em> Something had hit her, and I could feel her in that odd way sewn by our connection as she was blanketed in an icy chill. My tension skyrocketed; what was happening? All sound had ceased except the sound of crashing waves, and now even <em> that </em> was muffled. Where was she? Why wasn’t she calling me? Was she alright? </p><p>My claws unfurled reflexively, my lips parting in a snarl. <em> Call me, </em> I projected. <em> If you need me, call me. </em> </p><p>She didn’t. </p><p> </p><p>-- </p><p> </p><p>Robin was tumbling, wheeling, and I could feel it and her fear but still she didn’t call. I was caught between stepping out on my own and waiting; I didn’t know if she was alone, didn’t know if the others would see me, didn’t know if helping her now would reveal too much. I couldn’t act, and it had anxiety and paranoia filling me. I couldn’t protect her like this, knowing nothing, seeing nothing! </p><p><em> Call me! </em> </p><p>Her wheeling halted at last, and I felt her body seizing -- something. She had a grip, and that was all I cared to know. She’d stopped tumbling. I focused all the harder, vaguely able to feel her flip onto her back, then hold there. </p><p>I went very still, listening, waiting. The roar of rushing waters remained, but I was hearing no other <em> hh’ainun. </em> </p><p><em> “Zylas,” </em> her voice croaked. </p><p>I forced myself out, but it wasn’t with <em> relief </em> at finally being called -- it was with my own dose of fear. For her to call me now, I knew, something had gone wrong. How badly was she hurt? </p><p>In the blink of time before forming, I recognized a stone cave -- <em> tunnel, </em> I corrected -- with a river of water on one side and a stone floor on the other. It was large, bigger than the apartment, with lights nailed into the closest wall for some small illumination. Robin lay there on the platform, drenched in water, the jacket she’d worn earlier missing. </p><p><em> “Drādah,” </em> I snapped, urgency making my voice harsh. I crouched, looking her over, but with the water coating her like this I didn’t know if she was bleeding. I couldn’t smell anything except the water and the acrid stench of refuse and old rot. </p><p>“Are you hurt?” I demanded. </p><p>She was heaving and coughing for breath, water sputtering between her lips. “Don’t think so,” she managed to rasp. </p><p>Frustration had my jaw flexing. “I could feel your fear,” I accused. “You did not call me!” </p><p>She blinked at me in surprise, and I noticed then that her glasses were missing, too. <em> Kasht; </em> she’d explained those before. She couldn’t see right without them. I was barely close enough to her now for her to see <em> me </em> clearly. Everything beyond arm’s length was blurry to her, she’d explained, and the blurriness got worse the further things were from her. </p><p>She would be exceptionally hindered by their loss. </p><p>“I couldn’t,” she defended, her body steadily chilling worse by the second. Water was pouring off her, pooling underneath her. “You might’ve drowned. Do you know how to swim?” </p><p>My mind cursed at her as I shot back, <em> “Var! </em> Why would I not swim?” Then, grabbing her by the arms, I rose, forcing her to a stand up from the pool of water. She was shaky and freezing, her body heat much dimmer than usual, and she quivered from the cold; she needed to be further from the water. </p><p>I scowled, this entire situation infuriating me. “Where is this place?” I demanded, looking around again. More tunnels branched off this one and long pipes cut across the ceiling in places, creating a web of tunnels in various sizes, and all of them pouring water into the channel beside us. I’d never seen anything like it. </p><p>“Under the c-c-city,” she stammered as her shakes started rattling her teeth, her entire body wracked with quivers. “Need to f-f-find a way t-to the s-s-surface.” </p><p>This area branched off in two ways, I saw as I gazed more intently at the area. Three large tunnels were above our heads, above both exit tunnels and across the water from us, but water poured from them into the river; I doubted there would be an exit that way. I would have to scout but Robin would need to stay here. This spot was safe, shielded, the river not high enough to threaten her. </p><p>I pushed her backwards into the wall -- <em> channel, </em> her mind supplied me -- and directed sharply, “Stay here. I will find a way out.” </p><p>“I’ll c-come too,” she said immediately. “We should s-stay t--” </p><p><em> Nul. </em> “You are slow,” I interrupted her harshly. “I will be faster.” Decided, I released her and pivoted, seeking the more likely path-- </p><p>Her tiny, cold hand snagged my wrist, halting me, her breath sawing through her chattering teeth with terror. “Don’t leave me alone,” she whispered.  </p><p>I glanced back at her, surprised, analyzing her all over again. She was afraid of this, <em> na? </em> Being alone? Driven by an odd desire to soothe her, I gave her a grin, crooning, <em> “Na, drādah, </em> did you forget?” </p><p>She blinked. “Forget w-what?” </p><p>I tapped on our infernus with a claw, bringing her attention to it. “I am never far from you. Now be<em> drādah ahktallis </em> and wait here. Quietly,” I stressed. </p><p>She stared at me, silent and flooded with fear, though I felt it ease somewhat at my reminder. Now I had to be quick; I didn’t know how long she could suffer being cold like this before it became detrimental to her survival. With a twist, I focused ahead, ducked under the small waterfall from above, and strode down the tunnel. </p><p><em> Hnn. </em> The lights continued this way, I noticed first. I wondered if they continued the other way as well. <em> Hh’ainun </em> were so weak, I thought as I prowled ahead, sniffing the air. They needed to bring their own light everywhere. </p><p>The platform stretched on and on and on, and I was reminded that Robin had said this was under the city. Did it stretch for the entire size of the city, then? Did it go from one end to another? In all ways, even? These tunnels kept branching off in different directions, most of them in perfect squares and crosses, but sometimes in less precise angles. Did this underground river make a massive web underneath the city? </p><p>Now I wanted to explore it on my own sometime. Only the reminder that vampires should be down here stopped me from viewing the idea as fun; it wouldn’t be good to stumble across a pack of them while out on my own one night. </p><p>I didn’t take any turns until I scented something different from the mold and the rot: blood. <em> Hh’ainun </em> blood, to be exact. </p><p>Pivoting, I followed that lead, prowling more carefully. If vampires were here, I would need to be careful, but this was promising. They would have to leave this place from time to time, so they must have a convenient exit back to the surface. I just needed to find where it was and lead Robin back here. </p><p>The platform cut off, then, and I had to drop into the rushing waters to continue on. Grumbling mentally as the cold waters wrapped around my legs and soaked through my clothing, I plowed onwards, quickly learning that even the channel was smooth stone, too. It was slick under my feet, constantly threatening to make me slip, and the force of the rushing water made it even harder. It was nothing I couldn’t handle, but I knew at once Robin would never be able to hold herself against this onslaught. I would have to carry her through it. </p><p>An opening yawned ahead, dim light coming from within, the scent of blood, cloth, plastics and more flowing from it. I thought I heard voices as well, quiet murmurs -- humans, or vampires? More than likely they were vampires, but until I got closer and saw their eyes, I couldn’t be sure. Each step cautious, I steadily approached the opening--</p><p>
  <em> Daimon, hesychaze!  </em>
</p><p>I went rigid as Robin’s voice screeched in my mind, her terror palpable during that split second before I was reduced to a spirit and sucked back to the infernus. The tunnels whipped past my awareness as I went, and I was vaguely aware that I was being pulled <em> down; </em> the tunnels must have been at an incline so subtle I hadn’t noticed. </p><p>It only took a few seconds, but in that time I fought to see what was going on, why Robin had called me -- and the answer had rage burning in me. </p><p>A vampire had her. I felt the creature’s fangs in her neck as clearly as if it were my own, felt her body had turned limp -- and then I was there. For a split second I was forced inside the infernus, already pushing to get out, urgency hyperfocusing my senses. </p><p>I formed just in front of her, and as soon as my claws were solid I sent them plunging into the vampire’s skull. The creature barely had enough time to look up in surprise before I made contact, all five claws piercing straight through the former human’s head. </p><p>The vampire fell and took Robin with it; catching her, I clutched her against me, holding her up with one arm as I swore. </p><p><em> “Kasht! Drādah, </em> can you hear me?” I demanded, urgency making my voice harsh. </p><p>Her body managed a weak twitch, and then her mind answered. <em> I can’t move, </em> she sent to me, panicking. <em> I can’t move! </em> </p><p>“The vampire bite,” I concluded as memories resurfaced. “The <em> hh’ainun </em> warned of it.” Now that I knew she was at least conscious, my urgency dulled somewhat, but she was bleeding and her color had dimmed further -- both in her cheeks and in her warmth. I touched her face, feeling it for myself, and it had despair and anger clamoring inside me. She was so weak already, but with this, too… </p><p>“You are too cold. Your heart has slowed,” I murmured, unsure how to help. </p><p>Picturing the correct runes in my mind, I summoned my <em> vīsh, </em> feeling over her neck. I could heal the bite the creature had left behind and the blood loss, but the paralysis was something else, something I didn’t know how to cure. “I do not know the <em> vīsh </em>to fix you,” I admitted with difficulty. </p><p><em> You have only one obligation in all of this -- to protect me, </em> she’d said. </p><p>And not only had I left her alone long enough to get bitten by a vampire, potentially infecting her with vampirism, but I didn’t know how to even fix her now that she was hurt. </p><p>I had...failed her. </p><p><em> Just get us out of here! </em> she begged, her mind awash with desperation and her scent so saturated in fear it was almost overpowering. </p><p>“We will leave,” I confirmed, lifting her up, cradling her, my mind seizing on the image of Zora; she would know how to fix this. “I found a way--” I started, then cut myself off, noticing the glow of the stick on the ground. </p><p>Somehow my <em> drādah </em>managed to find the strength to follow my gaze, and then her mind stuttered with another surge of terror. </p><p>
  <em> Vampires are coming!  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>--</p><p> </p><p>It took me a second to determine a number of things: I couldn’t protect Robin against many vampires like this; many vampires were coming; the fewer the clues that their member had died, the safer we would be; running was not an option. </p><p>Moving quickly, I kicked the stick off the floor first, then the dead vampire, sending them both into the rushing waters. Blood from the kill remained but there was no time to deal with that. Then, facing a high opening perpendicular to us, I draped Robin over my shoulder and leapt to it. Hanging on with one hand, I pushed her in first, though she ended up helplessly sputtering with her face half in the flowing water. </p><p>After shoving her in deeper, I climbed in, then pulled her aside of the flow which thankfully wasn’t too wide. “Quiet,” I coached her on a breath, carefully and quietly pushing her further in until I was certain we were out of sight. </p><p>Her body was chilling faster and faster as the water washed over her so I moved quickly, only one solution to this predicament coming to mind. I knew no <em> vīsh </em>to warm up someone who was too cold; this wasn’t a problem demons had to deal with. The best I could do was use my own heat to return hers. </p><p>I glanced back and forth between the opening and my <em> drādah </em>as I got my armor unbuckled and pushed aside, then my cloth underlayer. My armguard and my sleeves were next, and I set them above the rush of the water; they’d managed to stay mostly dry this entire time and I’d prefer they stay that way. </p><p>Struggling, Robin sputtered, “What...are...you…” </p><p>
  <em> Drādah zh'ūltis, what does it look like?  </em>
</p><p>Now it was her turn, and I already knew she was going to resist but I had to do this. She was already distressingly dark to my infrared sight; I didn’t have the time nor freedom to deal with her protests. I peeled off her soaked sweater, the fabric attempting to cling to her. Robin gave a strangled noise of shock as I worked, removing the article and wetly slapping it against the side of the tunnel. With effort, she managed to cross her arms over her chest and the thin cloth still wrapped around her torso. That was wet, too, absolutely soaked through, but so small I didn’t think it would be much of a problem. </p><p>Besides, she clearly didn’t want me removing <em> that </em> thing, too, and the last thing I wanted was to deal with her pique later -- provided we both survived this. </p><p><em> Zylas! Stop-- </em> her mind yelled, equally horrified and angered. </p><p>Ignoring that, I seized her by her waist and tugged her up. Her body was still weak enough that she flopped forward as soon as her weight shifted, and I pulled on top of me as I leaned back, bracing my feet on the opposite side of the tunnel with my tail coiled against the wall to keep myself out of the water. She settled against me heavily, her knees on either side of my hips, her arms pinned under her. </p><p>Robin’s freezing skin felt like stabs against mine but I held back on a flinch, wrapping my arms around her. And although I couldn’t help noticing the give of her soft flesh and her tiny, subtle weight, it was tinged with the reminder of just how badly I’d failed her. This chill in her body was half my fault -- the other half being the vampire’s and her own, given she should’ve called me earlier to begin with -- and, in a way, fixing it was my responsibility at this point. </p><p>She gasped at the first touch of my skin, then -- to my surprise -- sank against me, seeking more. She even shoved her face right into my neck. How odd; I’d expected her to resist, had prepared to have to hold her down until her warmth had returned. She must have been dangerously close to dying of cold, I thought. </p><p>I tried not to think about that as I listened, hearing the vampires as they entered this small area. Their voices carried, talking to each other, seeking their fallen comrade, and my hands absently started feeling for the coldest parts of Robin to rub more warmth where she needed it. </p><p>The vampires were very aware that they’d lost one of theirs, but they clearly couldn’t track scents like I could and they hadn’t found our hiding spot. Slowly, their noises changed from speaking to searching, some footfalls carried away but others going in circles. They were looking, and if they found us… </p><p>Robin would hate it, but I thought I could get us away if I took her into the water and used its flow to carry us away faster than the vampires could follow. </p><p>Then Robin gasped and shoved herself up, her hands on my shoulders bracing her; my attention shot to her, and at my look, she crossed her arms over her chest again. </p><p><em> Drādah zh'ūltis, </em> why did she keep doing that? This was important! Did she find me so revolting that she’d rather die than accept my heat? Aggravated and fighting a painful tension in my chest, I seized her and pulled her back down, holding her with a stronger grip than before. </p><p>She fought me, biting out, “Zylas! Let me go!” </p><p>Well, that confirmed my thought: she <em> would </em> rather die. </p><p>Too bad for her I wouldn’t let that happen. </p><p>“You lost too much heat,” I growled back. “Share mine, stubborn <em> drādah.”  </em></p><p>She gave one more shove against me before giving up, recognizing she could go nowhere, now. She turned her face away from me, though, and it had my teeth clenching hard. She must hate me more than I’d thought she did. </p><p>It was as if that day on the docks had never occurred, anger and rejection colliding in me and making everything worse. </p><p>Refocusing, I forced myself to listen to the vampires, tracking them as well as I could over the rushing water without my eyes to help. It wasn’t easy, so much clamor and noise blending together that it was hard to follow. More steps retreated, and then something metal impacted something else with a sharp clang, the sudden sound making me jolt. </p><p>It sounded like the last of them were leaving, and I canted my head to listen more closely. As I followed the last footsteps as they traveled away from this place, a part of me unconsciously sought more of my <em> drādah’s </em> softness, my hand sliding up her back from her jeans to her shoulders. </p><p>I didn’t realize I’d done it until she shuddered against me. I shifted my gaze back to her, expecting backlash; she just gazed at me, wide-eyed, silent. Distress flowed from her, banked in her eyes, and it merely reminded me of what I’d already known. </p><p>She hated my touch, even now, in this -- when all I was doing was trying to keep her alive. </p><p>I snagged her arms and forced her back, desperately fending off the thoughts attempting to take root in my mind. She was warm enough, now, I determined. With sharp, quick motions, I fixed my clothing and armor, keeping my gaze off her in an attempt to keep my <em> mind </em> off her. </p><p>Once my chestplate was back in place, I wrung the water out of her sweater and gave it to her, then shoved on my sleeves and armguard. She gasped as she slid her clothing back on, flinching away from the cold of it. </p><p>“They have left this spot,” I informed her quietly. “We will go now.” She nodded; I continued, “I will carry you. You must hold on.” <em> I know how revolting I am to you, but you must do this much. </em> </p><p>“What--” she started. </p><p>No -- I couldn’t sit here and discuss this with her. I pushed her so she slid off me, landing on her knees in the cold water and flinching again. I shifted to my feet, crouching, and tugged her by her wrist onto my back. Once she was situated, her hands on my shoulders and her legs around my waist, I crawled forward, peering carefully through the opening. </p><p>No vampires remained to watch this place; good. It was all I needed. </p><p>We’d both get drenched all over again going forward but that was just something we’d have to deal with. I gave her thigh a subtle squeeze to impress on her that she had to hold on tighter than this and she did so, shifting to reaffirm her grip and cling closer to me. </p><p>For a moment I found myself hating that I liked the feel of her, and then I jumped forward, my tail arcing to keep me balanced as I plummeted back to the platform. I focused my senses on the vampires, scenting them, grateful to find that they hadn’t gone towards the exit I’d found. I was still dumbfounded that they’d managed to get around me somehow to find this place, but that was <em> imadnul </em> now. </p><p>I darted forward as soon as my feet had settled, ducking through the pour of water from above, my hands clawed and ready to strike at a moment’s notice. Now that I knew where I was going and what I should be smelling for, it was easier than before, my steps silent as I raced down the corridors. When I reached the correct branch, I slowed and turned, cautiously peeking down the length of the tunnel before diving down it. </p><p>Startled, Robin whispered, “How do you know which way to go?” </p><p>“This one smells like blood,” I answered as quietly. </p><p>I lamented this part, having to stride through water as high as my knees, but there was nothing for it. I forged onwards, the flow of the water fighting me, and now it was even harder with Robin on my back -- my foot slipped on the slick flooring and I surged aside, catching myself on the wall. The last thing either of us needed was to end up back in the flow. </p><p>A part of me blamed Zora for this. If she hadn’t roped Robin into this <em> zh'ūltis </em>hunt--! </p><p>No lights illuminated anything along this tunnel, but more awaited on the other side; reaching it for the first time, I assessed where we were: another crossed tunnel, this one with more lighting and voices echoing from one side but so much tighter than the others. But this tunnel curved ahead, unlike most of the others, and that made it more dangerous. </p><p>I stepped up out of the water, glad to be free of it, and slowed to a prowl, having to duck low to keep us from bashing our heads as I continued ahead. I didn’t get far before I determined the voices were very close and paused to sniff, getting a stronger lay of the area. </p><p>Those were definitely vampires ahead. Now that I was getting familiar with them I could tell their particular ring of rot from everything else in these tunnels, identifying it clearly. We were close, and that meant it was time for my <em> drādah </em> to stay back. I would have to kill them to find the way out. </p><p>I tapped on her leg and she unwrapped herself from me, dropping to her feet. Luckily it didn’t matter how stupidly loud her steps were; the water drowned it out. I headed on and she followed at a distance, seeing more and more heat coming from the area ahead. </p><p>It was as large here as the platform from before, large enough that they’d set up a crude living space. The scent of refuse was much more powerful here, and I caught three of the vampires milling about and speaking to one another. I reached a hand back, catching Robin by the hip and shoving to let her know it was time to stop. </p><p>I edged just a little closer, readying, plotting how to tackle all three of these creatures, and my claws unfurled. No <em> vīsh </em>-- not yet; they might be alerted by the light -- I cautioned myself. As soon as they were in a position where all three had their backs turned, I struck. </p><p>One vampire, holding a small, rectangular box, was saying, “I can’t get a signal. If we don’t report this--” </p><p>
  <em> Dh'ērrenith.  </em>
</p><p>I shot forward, rapidly descending upon them, holding off on summoning my claws until they saw me or I was already knuckle-deep in one of their chests; they noticed me just before I was close enough to strike. With a cruel grin, I cast the <em> vīsh, </em> my claws lengthening until they were long enough to cut these beings into pieces. </p><p>They clamored, shouting, recoiling and attempting to defend themselves, but these ones were slower than the ones in the house. I cautioned myself to be careful as I started slashing, reminded that they were supposed to be stronger during the night, my claws easily delving into one male’s chest. And, I noted with annoyance, Robin had followed me, rushing behind me; the vampires weren’t concerned with her, at least, with <em> me </em> here. </p><p>Another slash had one’s head falling, then I pierced its chest for good measure and turned on the last one. He scrambled back, then surged forward to meet me, swinging; I ducked under his swing and shoved my claws through his chest. </p><p>All three down, I righted myself, glancing towards my <em>drādah,</em> wondering what in the world had been so important she’d decided to put herself in danger like this. </p><p>She gazed back at me with surprise, opening her hand. She held something -- a small, rectangular box, I saw with surprise. The first vampire had been holding it, and I recalled it flinging into the air as I’d collided with him. She’d caught it? <em> Na, </em> without her glasses to help her see it? </p><p><em> Brave when it counted, </em> I thought again, mildly impressed. I let the magic fade from my arms, turning my attention to the area again. How did the vampires get in and out of here? </p><p>My eyes caught on metal poles in the wall leading up into a small, vertical tunnel. That, then? </p><p>It must be, because Robin’s mind sparked with recognition as she noticed it, too. She came over to it, standing on her toes to reach the lowest one, and my lips quirked. I wondered if she had anywhere near enough strength to hoist herself up; the struggling kick she gave said no. </p><p>Stepping up behind her, I caught her by the waist, lifting her as if she weighed nothing at all. She pulled herself up to a higher bar, getting her feet situated, then climbed up the rungs one by one. I canted my head as I watched her, keeping where I was in case her strength failed her and she fell down to the bottom again. </p><p>Above her was a square cage-like weave of metal -- <em> grate, </em> her mind suggested -- and light and fresh air poured from it. She reached it, then pushed, and the metal didn’t go anywhere. Too weak for this, even? </p><p>“I can’t…” she murmured, despairing. Looking down at me, eyes beseeching, she said, “I can’t open it.” </p><p>“Weak <em> drādah,” </em> I chided. “Try harder.” I wasn’t going to do <em> this </em> for her, too; she had to learn how to succeed on her own. </p><p>All she needed to do was use her strength smarter to do this thing. And, after a moment, she seemed to understand that; she braced her forearm against the grate and shoved using her whole body. The metal ground as it was levered up, then fell over, the opening free. An echoing <em> clang </em> sounded as it landed somewhere beyond my sight. </p><p>A pleased smile curved my lips as I watched Robin climb the rest of the way out of the tunnel, vanishing on the surface. She’d survived -- now she had to find Zora and make sure she wasn’t infected from her bite. </p><p>
  <em> Kish lēvh.  </em>
</p><p>As I entered the infernus again I could feel that she was on her back, her mind awash with stun. She laid like that for a moment, marveling, and then her hand curled around the pendant. I felt it both from her motions and with the odd sense granted by the infernus itself, feeling as though my entire being was being held in her palm. </p><p>It was a bizarre and not entirely welcome sensation, yet, at the same time...not entirely <em> unwelcome, </em> either. </p><p>Gratitude flowed from her mind as she murmured aloud, <em> “We did it.” </em> </p><p>For once, I felt no inclination to correct her. </p>
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